Smoke, Steel and Salt
by AssassinsLover
Summary: AU. Naomi Campbell is a notorious pirate. When her and her crew sink an enemy merchant ship, she gets far more than she bargained for.


**Warnings: **Sex, violence, blood/gore, drinking, language, etc.  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own Skins, or anything affiliated with Skins. The plot however, is almost entirely of my own creation. :)  
**Summary: **Naomi Campbell is a pirate - and not just any pirate; she's one of the most feared captains in the Spanish Main. She's arrogant, confident and takes what she wants when she wants it. When her and her crew capture and then sink a British merchant ship on its way to Eluethera, they take aboard an unexpected passenger who will change Naomi's life forever.  
**Notes: **For the first official **skins_bigbang** over on LJ. All the artwork and a few extras can be found there. My user name is **xxangelsblood**. Inspiration drawn from my own head, and a combination of _Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl_, _Cutthroat Island_, various books I have on actual pirates and how the 1600s have been romanticized. This isn't exactly beta'd, but I've read through it several times, so any mistakes that I may have missed are entirely my own.

* * *

**Smoke, Steel and Salt**

It was a fine evening, Naomi decided, as she stood atop the top fore sail with her arm wrapped about the thick wooden mast, using its support to keep her balance steady. A fine evening indeed. From her vantage point at the top of what used to be The HMS Orion, now The Night's Mermaid, Naomi could see for miles. The cool breeze filling the sails of the Mermaid lifted the tendrils of her hair that had escaped the ponytail she was wearing and whipped them gently around her face. She loved the sea; there was nothing in the world like sailing. It didn't matter that she was wanted in England and France and several islands in the Caribbean. Out there, with the sun beating down on her shoulders and her ship swaying gently beneath her feet, she was free. Naomi shut her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feel of the wind, before opening them again and training her sights on the far of shape against the horizon.

She'd been trailing the Carpe Diem for a week now, eager to get her hands on the goods stashed in her hull. So far, the crew on the enemy merchant ship hadn't spotted her and her band of cutthroats. Tonight was the night they would strike. It was a simple plan, one that she'd used before. Feign a crippled ship, robbed of all her valuables by a band of pirates and lure the merchant ship in. It would be a piece of cake to intercept the Carpe Diem's path without being noticed. A bit of expert manoeuvring and they'd be there. The Mermaid was smaller and faster than her target. The crew would hide below deck and when her first-mate, Cook, gave the signal, they'd attack. Her men weren't soldiers (save for Cook), but each and every one of them knew how to handle a sword and how to shoot a pistol.

Naomi reached for the spyglass hung at her side next to her pistol, partly hidden beneath the fabric of her shirt, which was un-tucked. She could just make out the forms of the Carpe Diem's crew moving about as well as a... Naomi frowned and snapped her 'glass back to the right. A woman? What the hell was a woman doing aboard a ship like _that_? The merchant ships that she'd come across in the past had only ever carried sailors and some sort of riches, perhaps a few redcoats, but never any women. Perhaps she carried some relation to the captain. All Naomi could really see of her was hair the colour of blood and a light pink dress. She hummed to herself and lowered the spyglass, reattaching it to her belt and reaching down to adjust her boot before nimbly clambering down the rough rigging. A few feet from the ground, she let go, landing with a soft '_thud_'' on the sun-warmed planks of the deck.

"Mr. Cook!" she shouted, striding towards the helm. No answer. Naomi frowned. It was quiet on the ship; unless he had his cock buried between the thighs of some whore (highly unlikely considering that they'd been at sea for months) she shouldn't have to repeat herself. "Mr. Cook!" she yelled again, tapping the shoulder of the helmsman and taking the wheel from him. She straightened their course slightly, then slung her arms over the wood and pressed her body against it. A mop of sandy blonde hair popped into her view from below deck, followed by head and shoulders and the strong military build of first-mate Mr. James Cook.

"Alright, Naoms?" he said cheerfully, bounding up the stairs and standing by Naomi, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. He still wore his old military jacket over his clothes, despite having deserted years before. Naomi nodded and then jerked her head across the length of the ship towards the Carpe Diem. The distance between her and her target was closing swiftly.

"I can almost _taste_ our victory," she told Cook, shifting her weight to her left foot. "Darkness is comin'. We should prepare and spring our trap. I don't fancy not being able to see who I'm fighting. It'll be bad enough with the smoke. Ready the men. And where's Effy?" Cook grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

"Cleanin' up." Naomi rolled her eyes.

"You are insatiable, you know that?" She tugged at his hair. "You should trim this. Getting' a bit long, innit?" Cook ran a hand through the loose curls atop his head and shrugged his broad shoulders.

"No, I think I'll keep it. Maybe a bit longer," Cook replied, brushing Naomi's hand away from his head. "Lads!" he bellowed, swinging up onto the banister. "Bring up the barrels from below and reef the top sails! There will be blood tonight!" The crew cheered and soon the sound of deep voices and the thumping of bare feet and boots against the deck filled the air. Naomi straightened up, tugging Cook back down by his shirt and handing the wheel off to him.

"You know what to do," she told him, clapping him on the shoulder and turning around. She stopped short as she came face to face with a rather flustered looking Effy. "Alright?" she said, slightly startled by her friend's sudden, silent appearance. Effy raised a brow and her lips, redder than normal and slightly swollen, quirked into a small smile. Her eyes flashed dangerously. She may have been quiet and looked relatively harmless (if you disregarded the arsenal of knives on her person), but she was a vicious killer. Naomi and Cook had busted her out of prison (unintentionally) during a raid about a year previously and she had sworn her undying loyalty to the two of them, and taken a particular liking to Cook.

"Perfect," Effy replied simply. "You don't have to wonder where I am any more." The brunette twirled on her heel and pulled herself up onto the ropes that helped hold up the main sail. She wrapped her wrist and one ankle around the knots and threw her head back. Naomi watched her for a moment before heading down to help the men lash the barrels of powder to the sides of the ship. The rigging and masts creaked as Cook changed course, a sudden pick up in the wind filling the sails. _Wonderful_, Naomi thought. Everything was going according to plan. The Carpe Diem was as good as hers.

Below deck was deathly quiet as Naomi and her men waited for Effy to creep back down to inform Cook that the crew of the Carpe Diem was preparing to board. They were all anxious, Naomi could tell. The men shifted impatiently, fingering guns and knives and grumbling to themselves.

"Steady lads," Naomi assured them, her tone still soft but loud enough for each man to hear her. "Steady." The creaking of the ship filled her ears. She caught a flash of white out of the corner of her eye and a few seconds later, Effy was by her side. There was a murderous glint in her eye, and her hand clutched at one of the many weapons hung off of her belt.

"She's pulling along side us. The crew doesn't seem to sense anything's amiss," the brunette told her. "There was a woman wit' them. Did you see her?"

"Yes," Naomi whispered back, her eyes trained on Cook's form, hidden by the stairs.

"She's in the captain's room. Thought I'd let you know." Naomi smirked, although the expression was quickly wiped off her face as she heard the thudding of the boots of sailors and soldiers above her head. A murmmer of anticipation rose of from the crew, whom Naomi swiftly silenced. She placed a hand on the blade at her side, and slid her pistol just the slightest amount out of her belt. All of her senses focused on Cook. He backed further from the stairs, keeping his back against the wood as a pair of shiny black boots began to descend the staircase. Another followed, and another, until a decent amount of men had filed into the deck. As they searched around, looking for survivors, any valuables, and when it appeared that no one else was following, Cook darted from his hiding spot and slashed a knife across the last man's throat. At his gurgling, the lad in front of him whipped around and cried out, alerting the rest of the group.

"Now!" Naomi shouted. The crew lurched from their hiding places, weapons at the ready, each and every one of them (except for Effy) letting out a bloodthirsty cry. Gunpowder smoke filled the air as pistols erupted, tearing holes in the support beams and the wooden floor as well as through the clothes of the invading party. Naomi parried an overhead blow from one soldier, only to fire a bullet into the chest of another. The soldier with whom she had locked swords slid his blade along the length of hers, attempting to get to the underside and push her arm away so he could strike. With a twist of her shoulder, Naomi brought her elbow up and jammed it into the man's nose. Blood spurted from his face and coated the sleeve of her shirt. As he recoiled, she slashed her sword across his chest, popping off a few of the brass buttons on his fancy uniform.

"To the main deck!" she heard Cook bellow as he tugged on the shirt of a young sailor, yanking him off the stairs and into Effy's path. Naomi's crew rallied to his cry, surging over the rough planks to follow the former militant. Naomi rushed to follow him, pausing to grip the collar of Effy's shirt and pull her off a corpse with a roll of her eyes; Effy tended to get carried away at times. She couldn't always help it.

The sun was almost below the horizon when Naomi's head popped up from below deck, her body following it into the chaos on the main deck, Effy trailing directly behind her. The brunette split away from her, leaving Naomi alone to battle her way to Cook's side. Her men were outnumbered, but the Carpe Diem's crew had been taken by surprise; Naomi had the advantage. The metallic clang of swords clashing, the loud crack of pistols being fired, and the shouts and grunts of the men on both sides filled the air, heavy with smoke.

"Someone put out that fire!" Naomi ordered when the enemy numbers began to thin slightly.

Her men began boarding the enemy ship, the more agile ones leaping the short distance between the two ships while others swung over on ropes, the rest storming across the wooden plank that the British had laid across the water to allow them to cross.

"Where the _fuck_ are all the gunners!" she shouted when she bumped into Cook's back. Blood coated his face, only some of it flowing from the cut across his brow. "I want this thing at the bottom of the bloody sea! _Now! _Before she destroys _my_ ship!"

"I don't know!" Cook replied, parrying a blow and shoving his attacker over the side of the vessel into the choppy waters. Naomi expertly reloaded her pistol, raising it in time to shoot a sailor about to attack Cook in the chest while her first-mate's back was still turned. The Mermaid shuddered beneath Naomi's feet as a canon ball ripped through part of the upper deck.

"Shit!" Naomi exclaimed, following her men over to the Carpe Diem. "Get down there and take care of those guns," she told her men, pointing to the hatch that led to the gunnery deck. When she saw that they were complying, she searched for the captain. Peering through a haze of smoke, she spotted him fleeing into his cabin, situated beneath the helm, half a deck below the main. Naomi sped after him and tried the door, only to find that it had been swiftly locked behind him. She drew her spare pistol from it's place against the small of her back and raised her sword hand to shield her eyes from the splinters that flew at her face as she shot the door open.

As quietly as she could, Naomi crept down the stairs, her sword held at the ready. Her blue orbs searched the elegant stateroom for any sign of where the Carpe Diem's captain was hiding. The wood beneath her feet creaked loudly as she stepped off the last stair, and with a loud cry, the captain swung out from the side, bearing his blade down at her. Naomi barely managed to duck a blow that surely would have taken her head off with a shouted expletive, pistol dropping from her grasp. The man's sword buried itself in the wood of the door frame with a satisfying thunk, but he wrenched it out again too quickly for Naomi to do anything more than dive into a roll to escape another sloppy attack.

She rose to her feet and stepped behind the table that took up a decent portion of the room. Placing a boot against the side of it, she waited until the captain lunged and shoved with all her might, sending the table crashing to the floor. The captain tripped over it and a young woman (the one she'd seen earlier) squealed in terror and scrambled out of the way, clutching her skirts and cowering in the corner. The captain rolled to the side, avoiding the strike that Naomi thrust down, and swiftly clambered to his feet, attacking in a frenzy. Naomi barely managed to parry some of his blows; he was sloppy, but obviously desperate, and he was a good deal stronger than her. One strike got through, only just, and tore a neat gash in Naomi's upper arm that would leave a pretty little scar once it healed.

Thinking quickly, the blonde scanned the floor for anything she could use to her advantage as she yanked a knife out of her boot and slashed upwards. The attack missed. Naomi hopped back, dodging a sideways slash at her stomach and then she spotted it; the captain's gun. She dived for it, going into another roll and straight onto her feet. When she spun around, the barrel of the gun rested directly against the captain's temple. For a split second, she saw the fear register in his eyes before she grimaced and pulled the trigger. The recoil rippled up her arm into her shoulder and jerked her body back a step. As the captain's body stiffened and fell back, Naomi dropped his gun (single shot, and older than God if the recoil had anything to say about it, not worth keeping) to the carpeted floor, wiping blood and sweat off of her face and onto her shirt, stained with dirt and smoke and her own blood as well as her enemies and bent down to search the body. The medals could be pawned somewhere, the coins were well, coins, and... ah ha! There it was. The key to whatever treasure the Carpe Diem held.

With some amount of effort due to the spikes of pain shooting through her right arm and shoulder, Naomi rid the captain of his jacket. It wouldn't fit her (and she had a few of her own) but Cook or one of her other officers would enjoy it. The blonde turned away and headed for the stairs, stooping to pick up her gun from where she'd dropped it and tucking it back into her belt. She was about to ascend to the main deck and give the order to find the loot and blow the Carpe Diem to smithereens when muffled sobs stopped her half way through the door frame, one hand clutching at the wood.

"Oh," Naomi muttered, leaning back around the corner and catching sight of the small, red-headed figure in the corner. She strode swiftly across the room and grabbed the woman's arm with her left hand, hugging the other close to her body. The girl screamed and ripped her arm away, fleeing to another corner. Naomi sighed and rolled her eyes, clutching at her wound. "You can either stay here and die, or come with me and live," she said sharply. The redhead looked from her, to the dead body of the Carpe Diem's captain and then back to her before shakily getting to her feet. _Smart girl_, Naomi thought, turning on her heel and hurrying up to the main deck.

"Cap'n!" a voice shouted when she appeared, the girl a few paces behind her. She looked around, but the fighting had stopped. Thank God for that.

"Jenkins," Naomi replied, tossing the key she'd taken off the captain to him. He fumbled slightly, but caught it. "Search the ship. Anything you find of value, bring it over."

"Aye, m'am," Jenkins responded, gathering up the men who weren't wounded to help him. Naomi helped the young redhead following her across the boarding plank and passed her off to a passing sailor.

"Get her something to drink and put her in my quarters," she told him. "I'll be there shortly. Cook!"

She found her second in charge searching through the bodies below deck, checking for wounded and dead on both sides with the Mermaid's surgeon, Jonah Jeremiah Jones.

"How many dead?" were the first words out of Naomi's mouth.

"Five. Good, considering the odds," Jonah replied.

"Wounded?"

"Not sure. Haven't counted 'em all yet." Jonah looked up, his sharp eyes catching where Naomi's now bloodied hand clutched at her arm. He motioned absently to it with one hand whilst bending down to check the pulse of a body by his feet. "I'll sort that out once Cook and I 'ave finished 'ere." Naomi nodded, pain lacing through her shoulder again.

"Cook, I've something for ye," Naomi stated, handing the jacket she'd taken to her friend, who's eyes lit up as his gaze raked over it appreciatively. She stepped over a corpse, her foot kicking something hard that skidded across the planks a few feet. The blonde looked down, then bent over to pick up her other pistol, cleaning a bit of spattered blood off of it with a clean corner of her shirt.

Back above deck, the members of Naomi's crew not writhing in pain or being sick over the side of the ship were picking up the bodies of the enemies and passing them back over to the Carpe Diem, while the men who had gone with Jenkins hauled back over a fairly sizeable amount of booty. There were chest filled with gold, a few sizeable paintings, and an absolutely beautiful mahogany table that Naomi would certainly appreciate having in her cabin.

"Lovely," Naomi exclaimed, grinning broadly. "Is that everything?" Jenkins nodded, wiping sweat from his brow with a dirty handkerchief.

"Aye, m'am."

"Excellent. Get everyone aboard and sink her. Mr. Brandon! Unfurl the sails and get us away; I don't want my ship damaged by the explosion." As the last of her crew scurried off the Carpe Diem, a trail of gunpowder lit and heading speedily towards the lower decks, Naomi watched the boarding ramps fall into the sea as she looped her uninjured arm around the rigging and stood on top of the rail, watching as the distance between the two ships grew and turning her face away slightly as the Carpe Diem exploded in a ball of fire.

Naomi dipped her hands into the basin of water before her and washed the sweat, blood and dirt off of her face and neck. The cool liquid felt like heaven against her flushed skin, and woke her up slightly; the effects of fighting for a good hour plus blood loss had begun to wear on her. Behind her, the woman that she had taken captive was sat in a chair, trembling with clear tracks from her tears cutting through the layer of grime that covered her pale skin. Only the soft sounds of Jonah preparing his materials to stitch and properly clean her arm filled the cabin, accompanied by the occasional sniffle from the redhead. Jonah swept his hand towards a chair, indicating that Naomi should sit. The captain wearily complied, rolling the sleeve of her shirt up and lowering herself into the seat. She focused her gaze on her captive.

Seconds ticked by, no one speaking, Naomi occasionally wincing at the bite of the needle and sting of the alcohol. The redhead wiped at her nose and eyes with her hand and kept her head turned away from Naomi, looking out the windows along the back of the room.

"Are you hurt?" Naomi asked eventually. "Mr. Jones is an expert physician." The girl stiffened at the sound of her voice, then quickly shook her head. The blonde examined her, tilting her head to the left slightly. She was quite beautiful, even beneath the dirt and blood that probably wasn't her own. "You can wash up, if you'd like. The water is fresh. I know you must be uncomfortable." Jonah tied off the last stitch and wrapped a strip of linen around Naomi's upper arm, securing it and tucking the loose ends in. He clapped her gently on the shoulder and gathered up his equipment, leaving the room silently. Naomi rose from her seat and retrieved the bowl of water, taking it to the young woman. She turned her back then, shedding her shirt without a shred of modesty and obtaining a fresh one from the chest on the opposite side of the room. When she turned around again, the redhead was slowly cleaning her face with the rag hanging off the side of the bowl.

"What's your name?" Naomi broke out a bottle of wine - vintage, stolen, of course, wonderful year as well – and two crystal glasses, also stolen. She poured them both something to drink before the girl spoke.

"Emily Fi- … Brown. Emily Brown," she said, her voice rough and thick with the tears she'd cried. Naomi raised an eyebrow and handed Emily a glass before taking a grateful sip from her own. She let the drink rest on her tongue for a moment before she spoke.

"And what, exactly, were you doing aboard the Carpe Diem, Miss Brown?" she inquired airily, dragging the chair she'd been sat in before over towards Emily and settling herself in it.

"Travelling to Eluethera. I am the captain's sister's new maid." Naomi examined her dress; while it was a bit torn and dirty, it was certainly something nicer than a maid should be wearing. The blonde raised her glass to her lips and crossed her legs. "You're well-spoken, for a pirate." Naomi bit back a grin.

"You're well-spoken, for a maid," she retorted. "Dressed nicely for one as well." She sucked in a breath and pushed to her feet, moving to stand by the window with her arms over her chest.

"I know who you are," Emily declared.

"_Do_ you?" Naomi replied sarcastically. Of course the redhead knew who she was. She _was _one of the most notorious pirates in the Spanish Main, after all.

"You're Naomi Campbell."

"I am," Naomi said with an exaggerated bow and a cocky grin on her face. "And _you_, my love, are _not_ a lady's maid." Emily paled, a feat considering how fair her skin was already. "Don't worry, not a soul aboard this vessel will dare harm you. You're safe in here." Naomi turned her body and leaned her shoulder against the window. "Now, care to tell me who you really are and the real reason why you're travelling to Eluethera? If that really is where you are headed."

"No."

"I have ways of making you talk, as I'm sure you know." While Naomi had never personally tortured _anyone_ for information when she needed it, she had no reservations about setting Effy on them. Of course, she had no intention of actually torturing the young woman (even she was above that), but Emily didn't know that. "I'm fairly certain that my reputation precedes me." Emily's grip tightened around her glass of wine.

"My name is Emily Fitch. I'm joining the rest of my family," she answered, valiantly attempting to keep her voice from quivering.

"And why didn't you come over with them?"

"That's none of your concern," Emily said firmly, her face hardening. Naomi chuckled.

"You are my captive, Miss Fitch," Naomi responded, gesturing around the room with her wine. "I think you'll find that it _is_ my concern, but very well. Keep your secrets. For now." The blonde pushed away from the wall and opened a set of folding doors to one side of the stairs that led to a compartment holding a decent size bed, fitted with a crimson and gold duvet and white sheets of the finest Egyptian cotton. She then moved to the other side and slid aside an identical set of doors, revealing a small closet filled with fine clothes made for both sexes. "I'm sure the day's ordeal has wearied you. You may stay here. Help yourself to whatever clothes take your fancy. The door locks from the inside, and only I have a key. If you feel at all unsafe, please lock it." Emily gazed at her with dark eyes, rimmed with red. Naomi drained what was left of her wine in one go and swiftly exited into the cool night air. A few seconds later she heard the loud click of the lock on the door sliding into place.

She found Cook standing at the bow with a bottle of rum in his hand. He gave her his jacket when a shudder ripped through her body, and she pulled it over her shoulders graciously, wincing when the movement tugged on her stitches. The cold was making it ache more.

"Very chivalrous of you to give up yer room fer the lady," he said. Naomi shoved his shoulder, making him dribble rum down his chin.

"And it's precisely because she's a lady that I'm doing so," she countered, taking the bottle from him and taking a hearty swig. "You'd do the same, were it Effy that we had found instead." Cook chuckled. He looked relatively unharmed, save that he seemed to be favouring one leg and the superficial cut over his right eyebrow. "Today was an overwhelming success, I think," the blonde continued, thinking about the haul that was sitting on the lowest deck of the ship.

"What next, Cap'n?" Naomi tilted her head back and stared at the sky, covered completely in a blanket of stars. There was nothing like it.

"We turn 'round and head off to see Johnny in Nassau. Eluethera is close by. We can drop our young lady friend off to be reunited with her darling family." She paused. "If the mood strikes me." Cook laughed, and Naomi joined him, lowering herself to the deck. "This is the life, eh, Cook?" she mused as he settled himself next to her.

"Aye."

The first rays of sunlight peeking out from behind the horizon woke Naomi, who pushed herself up to a sitting position and winced as her arm twinged. Cook was still laying next to her on the deck, using his shirt as a pillow. She touched his shoulder lightly and his body jerked and he grumbled at her.

"Check on the wounded for me, would you?" she asked softly, the few sailors who were still awake quietly going about their work. Cook nodded and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Naomi clambered to her feet and stretched out her stuff limbs, sore from sleeping on the hard planks of the ship. "Have Tom set the course. The first friendly port we come across we'll stop at for a few days." He nodded again and yawned. Naomi did as well, popping her lower back and sleepily stumbling towards her cabin, unlocking the heavy door with the key hung around her neck.

There was a loud gasp as she stepped foot off the stairs, followed by a thump and Naomi quickly turned her head and covered her eyes with her hand, but not before catching a healthy glimpse of pale flesh that set her loins afire. She'd almost forgotten about Emily. She heard the rustling of fabric and a muttered curse. Naomi smiled.

"You may look now," Emily said, her voice soft. When Naomi dropped her hand, the redhead's face and neck were the colour of her hair.

"Sorry. I should have knocked. I'd forgotten." Naomi turned the small looking glass sat upon her desk and pulled the collar of her shirt down, and then the linen wraps, examining her arm. She prodded it. It was red and looked irritated, but Naomi was no doctor, so she let it be. "I thought you would still be sleeping."

"Does it pain you?" Naomi rose a brow, an incredulous look passing over her face.

"Not at all," she lied smoothly, picking at a bit of dried blood still stuck to her skin. Of course it pained her; hurt like a bitch, actually. She needed to wash as well. While her men may have been content not being able to bathe for months, Naomi preferred to at least _attempt_ to keep herself clean. "Did you sleep well?"

"Why do you care?" Emily shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. Naomi tried to keep herself from blatantly eye-groping her tits, but it was difficult with the way her dress pushed them up so nicely.

"I don't," Naomi replied nonchalantly. "But_ I_ gave up a _wonderful_ night's sleep in _my_ bed, which I certainly could have used, so that you could have the pleasure, and I'd like to think that it wasn't all for naught."

"I didn't ask you to give up your bed for me."

"Well then. Perhaps you'd like to spend the rest of the journey sleeping below deck with the crew," Naomi threatened and smiled tightly when Emily blanched and snapped her jaw shut. "I thought as much." The blonde fixed her bandages and turned the mirror back around. When she rotated her body to face Emily, she got an eyeful of her breasts since suddenly Emily was standing next to her and she was quite a deal shorter so when Naomi looked down to meet her eyes, they caught her attention instead. The redhead cleared her throat. "Yes?" she asked abruptly. Emily was too close into her personal space. "Can I help you?"

"Your arm is bleeding," Emily observed quietly, reaching out to push Naomi's sleeve up. The blonde took an automatic step back and glanced down to where a blotch of red had stained her shirt. She sighed. Usually Jonah did a more than decent job on wounds. She must have stretched it without realizing.

"Christ," she sighed. Another shirt potentially ruined; getting blood stains out of the cotton was a nightmare and literally almost impossible. She only had so many clothes to go through.

"Here, let me look at it," Emily said, reaching out again. Naomi pulled her arm away a bit too quickly, wincing as the tensing of her muscles made pain flare up.

"No," she snapped, a little sharper than she meant to. "It's fine."

"Obviously not if it's bleeding," Emily replied flatly.

"Are you a doctor, Miss Fitch? No. It's probably just a result of sleeping on the bloody deck all night." She ignored the stain on her shirt and headed towards back towards the deck. "I assume you remember where the wine is, in case you grow thirsty. Ask any man who is not busy to lead you to the galley when you need to eat," she explained, tucking a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. "You have free reign of the ship, but I'd stay away from the lower decks. My men won't take too kindly to you being there and I'd hate to have to cut off a pretty little finger of yours for trying to nick anything from my haul." Emily's eyes widened slightly. Naomi smirked.

"Captain!" Emily called after her just as she curled her fingers around the door handle. Naomi looked over her shoulder. "There was a ring in a jewelled box in Daniel's stateroom. I care not for whatever other riches lie within it, but, please, I must have that ring." Naomi rose a brow, feeling a headache coming on.

"Why?"

"It was my-" Emily stopped suddenly, biting her lip. "It is of great importance to me." Naomi left without replying. One measly ring would make little difference to the value of the things the Mermaid carried in her hull, but what did Naomi care for the feelings of a woman who, really, was only a hindrance to her right now? Were she a man, she probably would have given Emily to her crew, but as a woman, she had a certain amount of ingrained respect for the redhead. Traversing the sea was not a pleasant, nor easy, journey, after all.

She ducked her head to clear the door (it was low and she was rather tall) and when she straightened up, a wave of dizziness hit her. She waited, one hand on the wooden frame for support, for the spell to pass. It didn't.

"Naomi?" she heard Cook say, but his voice sounded far away. Her vision blurred. "Shit! Johnson, get Jones. _Now!_" The last thing she remembered was her knees buckling and hitting the planks, followed by the rest of her body and a sharp pain shooting through her shoulder and down her arm as she landed on her injury.

A dull ache forced her towards consciousness. She screwed her eyes shut and fought against it, wanting to disappear back into her prefect dream world. In addition to her shoulder feeling like it was burning, there was a pain behind her eyes and her whole body was hot, a light sheen of sweat covering her skin. Then she realized that she was laying in her bed, the gentle rocking of the Mermaid on the waves actually starting to make her stomach churn in a rather sickening manner. The third thing that pushed it's way into the front of her mind was that she didn't have a shirt on. Or trousers. The fourth was that there was someone sitting by her head, humming softly, and gently drawing a damp rag across her forehead. Soft fingers smoothed her hair back from her face and tucked it delicately behind her ear.

Her eyes fluttered and she groaned, pulling away from the hand and thrashing slightly beneath the blankets.

"Cook!" she heard a sweet voice say, much too loud for her liking. Footsteps thudded against the deck. She cracked her eyes open and sucked in a deep breath. There were three faces hovering over hers; Jonah's, Cook's and... Emily's?

"How're you feelin', Cap'n?" Cook asked, concern lacing his tone.

"Like someone just dropped a fuckin' anchor on my 'ead," Naomi slurred, her voice croaking hoarsely. Cook grinned broadly. "The fuck're you smiling for?"

"I think she's feelin' alright, doc," he said to Jonah instead, ignoring her.

"I'll be the judge of that," the doctor told him, pushing Cook out of the way so he could bend over Naomi. She jerked her arm away as he prodded at it.

"Fucks sake, that's tender!" she scolded. Jonah gave her a pointed look and she set her jaw, letting the doctor do his job.

"Despite the fact that the wound was cleaned out, it still managed to become infected. You've caught a fever, but everything _appears_ to be doing fine now. Your arm certainly looks much better than it did when you fainted."

"How long ago was that exactly?"

"About two days," Jonah replied casually, giving one last painful prod to Naomi's arm.

"_Two days?_" Naomi shot up, barely remembering to clutch the duvet to her chest. Her head swam dangerously. Emily gently pushed on her shoulder, settling her back into her pillows.

"Be careful; you're still ill," she warned softly. Naomi huffed and watched as Jonah cleaned the wound (she couldn't help but wince, because it was a _thorough_ clean and it burned) and wrapped fresh bandages around it.

"Don't worry, Cap'n. I've got evry'thin' under control, yeah? We're still bound for Nassau and Miss Fitch 'ere has been takin' care of you. Done a pretty stand up job, I'd say," Cook butt in. Naomi glanced over in time to see the redhead blush.

"Yes, quite," Jonah piped up. "I would give you orders to remain bedridden, but I doubt you would heed them. If you must move around, please try not to overexert yourself."

"I'll _try_ to contain myself," Naomi muttered, a sarcastic bite to her voice. Jonah gave her a warning look, gathered his things up and left.

"I've got the cure, Naomi," Cook said, a boyish grin overtaking his face. Naomi frowned, confused. She had a fever. It would pass.

"For what?"

"It's my cock," he continued in a stage whisper. Naomi rolled her eyes and shooed him with a wave of her hand. Emily's flush deepened.

"Get out of here, tosser."

"How can you put up with him?" she asked abruptly as soon as they were alone. Naomi relaxed into her bed and sent the red head a bored glance. "He's repulsive." The blonde absently wondered how many passes Cook had made at the redhead. Effy wouldn't be happy with that.

"He's more of a gentleman than any man I've met," she replied, passing the back of her hand over her eyes. She was tired. "Where's Effy?"

"She's not exactly the best nursemaid," Emily explained quietly, moving Naomi's hand away from her face. They both froze at the contact, a burning that had nothing to do with her fever engulfing Naomi's fingers. Emily swallowed hard and pressed her hand against Naomi's forehead. "You're still warm." Naomi rolled her eyes and sighed.

"_Really. _I had _no_ idea." Emily gave her a hard look and dabbed at her face with the rag again. Naomi had to admit that it felt lovely, although if it was the cool cloth or Emily's cool hands that were responsible she wasn't sure.

"Are you thirsty?" Naomi nodded, graciously accepting the cup of watered-down wine that Emily handed her. "Mr. Jones managed to secure an apple for you, if you want it." The blonde's stomach grumbled loudly in response, making Emily laugh and hand her a handkerchief containing a neatly sliced apple within.

"You don't have to fuss over me, you know," she stated, munching contently on the fruit. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I'm just a bit tired. That's all." She punctuated her statement with a loud yawn. "And too warm." She all but kicked the covers off, raising her food off of her stomach and stretched with another yawn, her eyes sliding shut without her permission. She blinked them back open and rubbed at them, turning her head to the side. Emily had averted her gaze, her face pink. She looked rather adorable. Naomi started. _Adorable?_

"You blush a lot," she stated bluntly, her vocal chords moving without her brain's say so. "It's quite becoming."

"You're delirious," Emily said meekly. "Would you like clothes?" _Oh_, Naomi thought. _Right. __I'm naked._

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Her words hung heavily in the air. Slowly, Emily shook her head and when she looked up, her eyes were dark.

"I'll manage. If you're too warm, don't worry." Her voice sounded rougher. Naomi recognized the look in her eyes. She'd seen it in the eyes off her crew when they all went out whoring together, but that couldn't be right. A respectable lady like Emily Fitch lusting after her? A pirate? A _woman_? Bollocks. Naomi turned her head away and shut her eyes.

This time, it was soft cries that woke her. It was dark, but someone (Emily, she assumed) had lit a lamp, which burned brightly on her desk. The light didn't completely penetrate the shadows around her bed though, so when Naomi opened her eyes and blearily looked around, she had trouble seeing where the sounds were coming from. She used her ears instead, and then her hands. Her body didn't feel quite as hot as it had earlier, which she partly contributed to the sun having set. It sounded like Emily.

"Miss Fitch?" she asked roughly, clearing her throat. Her eyes adjusted, and she could make out Emily's body curled up on a chair (how she managed to get that to fit next to Naomi's bed was still a mystery to the blonde) obviously asleep. The light from the lamp cast shadows across her face. Her features were scrunched up in fear. "Miss Fitch," Naomi repeated, her voice firmer. No response. "Emily." The redhead's eyes shot open as she inhaled sharply, locking with Naomi's own.

"I'm fine," Emily replied, almost automatically it seemed. She straightened up and wiped at her eyes. "Are you alright? Do you need anything?" Naomi almost shook her head.

"A drink," she eventually answered, adding "please" as an afterthought.

"Here, you didn't finish all of this." Naomi took the cup from Emily's hand and sipped at it, comfortable pushing herself up on the elbow of her uninjured arm, even when the blanket (hadn't she fallen asleep uncovered?) fell from her chest. Emily wasn't looking at her again. "Effy was here earlier. She told me that we're nearing Tortuga."

"Tortuga, eh?" Naomi muttered around the edge of her cup. Emily nodded, a motion that Naomi almost missed in the darkness. "Well, you'll have a chance to stretch your legs. Cook and I will have to go ashore and stock up, and the men will want to go to the taverns. I won't have you left here on your own. Did Effy say when we'll make port?"

"Some time mid-afternoon. How long 'til we reach Eluethera?"

"From Tortuga? A couple weeks if the wind is with us." Emily visibly relaxed. They were both quiet for a while, Naomi finishing her wine and rubbing at her eyes. She was still tired, although definitely no where near as much as she'd been before.

"How are you feeling? Any better?" Naomi grunted non-committally, setting the cup down next to her on the bed and supporting it with her hand. Emily reached over to take it from her, one hand supporting her weight on the edge of the bed while the other moved towards the cup. It brushed against Naomi's breast in the darkness. The blonde stiffened, holding her breath. Emily paused for an agonizing second, before retrieving the cup and acting as if nothing had happened.

"Why are you sleeping in a chair?" Naomi asked abruptly. "There's plenty of room in the bed for the both of us, especially since you're so small. I don't want you being uncomfortable just because I've been forced to stay bedridden."

"I doubt anyone could force you to do anything, Captain," Emily said evasively. Naomi rolled her eyes and moved over.

"Get in."

"I don't think-"

"I gave you an order, Miss Fitch. And while you're on my ship, you'll do as I say. Get in. It's not a problem." Emily gazed at her with those dark eyes of hers. "There's no place for modesty on the sea, Miss Fitch." There was a long pause, then the redhead nodded and stood, squeezing both herself and the chair (somehow) out into the main stateroom. She disappeared for a few moments, during which Naomi could hear the rustling of fabric over the creaking of the Mermaid. When Emily re-entered her line of sight, she'd shed her dress, although she still wore a chemise underneath. Naomi could see the faint outline of her body in the moonlight shining from the windows at the back of the stateroom. It made her mouth go dry. The redhead fidgeted nervously then clambered awkwardly onto the bed, trying not to touch or disturb Naomi in any way.

"Are you sure this is okay?"

"Yes." Emily was quiet for a long time, and Naomi thought she had fallen asleep, and was close to sleep again herself (bloody fever) when she finally spoke. The sound of her voice startled Naomi into a more awake state.

"The last person I shared a bed with was my sister. I haven't seen her in almost two years."

"Why so long?"

"I told you I was travelling to Eluethera to rejoin my family. I stayed behind."

"Why?" Naomi asked through a yawn. She snuggled more firmly into her pillows.

"Why do you care?"

"I don't."

"Then why do you keep asking?"

"Why do you keep evading?"

"I was engaged, if you must know," Emily snapped. "To a merchant's son. Frederic McClair."

"Things go sour then?" Naomi asked, unfazed by Emily's tone.

"No."

"What happened, then?" No response. "Why did they leave?" _Why am I so bloody curious? By God, Naomi. Shut your mouth._

"My family moved to Eluethera after Katie got sick. The doctor said that the warmer weather would help. Of course, I have no idea if his diagnosis is actually accurate, seeing as he murdered my fiancé."

"Oh." She'd pushed too far. "I didn't mean to pry." Emily didn't reply, and eventually she drifted into an uneasy slumber.

"Are you sure you're feeling well enough to go ashore?" Jonah asked as Naomi collected her sword and pistols from a locked compartment built into the wall of her stateroom.

"For the last time, _yes._ I could use a decent meal, a cold pint and a busty wench," the blonde said in an exasperated tone. "The lads as well. We're all bloody tired of hearing fucking Cook getting seen to."

"What about the girl?"

"She'll stay with me." Jonah followed her out onto the deck, where a few of the men were hauling up a couple things to trade for supplies. The jewellery box caught her eye. "Wait!" she called, striding over to the group and lifting the box out of the hands of one of them. The lock had been picked, but nothing removed. She sifted through the items that rested within it until her fingers collided with what she was searching for. The blonde removed the ring and examined it briefly before tucking it in the pouch that held her coins. She returned the box to the man and turned away, scanning the crowded deck for Emily. She was stood by Cook near the boarding ramp, watching with the first-mate as men trailed off in pairs or small groups. Effy was off to the side, quietly looking out over the town.

"Have you ever heard of Tortuga before, Miss Emily?" Cook was asking as Naomi approached.

"Only in stories that my mother told to scare my sister and I." Cook chuckled.

"Just stick with Cook and I and you'll be fine. Do try to not be separated from either of us. A lass as pretty as you won't last long on her own in a town like this." She clapped Cook on the shoulder, a mischievous glint in her eyes matching the one in his. "Let's go. I'm parched. Miss Fitch, are you ready?" Emily nodded nervously and followed them down to the dock. Naomi took a deep breath as soon as she set foot on firm land. Tortuga wasn't the most pleasant smelling town, but it was better than an entire crew of men crammed into small quarters.

"Where shall we go first, Naoms?" Cook asked, affectionately slinging his arm around the blonde's shoulders.

"I say we find a tavern and have a nice, long drink. How's that sound Eff?" she called over her shoulder to the brunette, who was trailing a few paces behind, silently taking in their surroundings. She locked eyes with Naomi and smiled slightly.

Of course, it didn't take long to find a tavern, although finding one that wasn't overly crowded was a bit of a problem. The group stopped searching eventually, and settled for one about a quarter of a mile in from the dock. Cook dropped heavily into a seat next to a table in the corner, Effy perching by his left. Naomi waited for Emily to situate herself on his other side before seating herself. Within minutes, a rather lovely girl sauntered up to them, a sultry smirk on her face.

"What cin I get you lot, then?"

"Round of rum for me and my mates, and some wine for the lady. And keep the rum comin' would you, love?" Naomi said with a wink and a smirk of her own, sliding a golden coin across the table to girl. Her eyes lit up.

"'ll just be a minute."

A few more of Naomi's crew joined them eventually, boisterously laughing and gambling with a few of the locals. Cook joined them after his third drink, and vanished up into the tavern's private rooms with Effy and another brunette a while later. Naomi's mind was in a pleasant haze, a drunken smile on her face. Emily jumped violently as a gunshot sounded somewhere. Naomi didn't flinch a inch.

"Relax," she drawled, laying her hand over where Emily's fingers were drumming on the table. "Drink your wine. Have a laugh. You're with me. You're _perfectly_ safe."

Emily began to look increasingly uncomfortable as the night wore on, especially when one of the barmaids situated herself on Naomi's lap , knocking the blonde's hat off her head and threading fingers through her hair with a,

"'Ello, lovah. Been a while since you were last here, innit? You interested in a bit 'o fun tahnight? I recall you 'avin' quite a good time last time." Naomi looked like she was about to agree (it had been far too long since she'd known a woman's touch, and she _did_ have needs), but then she glanced at Emily and shook her head.

"'fraid not, sweetheart," she said with a pat to the girl's bum. "Maybe another time, yeah?"

"Yeah, alright. Don't stay away so long." She planted a kiss on the corner of Naomi's lips, then flitted off to find another customer, leaving Naomi alone (relatively speaking) with a very awkward looking Emily. The blonde finished her drink in one go, letting out a content sigh. "Stay here," she ordered Emily, heading over to the owner, who was serving up the drinks.

"What can I do for ye?" he asked when he caught Naomi's eye. "Ah, Campbell. Good to see ye back in one piece. Trust ye had a good run?" Naomi nodded.

"We're stopping here for a bit of a break and then we're off to Nassau to see Johnny. Do you still 'ave rooms free?" The man nodded.

"Yep, plenty of people passin' out on the streets or spendin' all their money on drink." She held up a few coins in front of his face.

"I'll have your best, please. This should cover whatever room Cook has decided to bunk in as well." She looked over her shoulder. "Emily!" The redhead looked up, catching her eye. Naomi motioned her over. "Lead the way," she said to the barman.

"My sincerest apologies, Miss Fitch," Naomi said once they reached the room and the owner left after giving Naomi the room key. "But I wouldn't accompany you back to the ship in my current state. I'd probably get lost."

"It's fine," Emily replied, although there was a nervous tightness in her voice. Naomi set her pistols on the rickety stand next to an equally rickety bed (well, rickety compared to her bed on the Mermaid) and propped her sword against the wall. Off came her hat and her boots and then she flopped on the bed, which creaked loudly in protest, and fixed her gaze on Emily. The redhead's hands were at the ties of her dress, but she flushed and dropped them when she realized Naomi was watching. The blonde cleared her throat and looked away, shifting back further on the bed. The coins at her belt jingled in response.

"Oh!" Naomi exclaimed softly, untying the leather strips that held it close to her body and digging her fingers through it until she came in contact with what she was looking for. She waited until Emily had laid her dress across the only chair in the room and was shifting awkwardly before saying, "I have something for you." Emily gave her a curious glance until her eyes fell on the ring held delicately between Naomi's fingers. A look of utter happiness passed over the young woman's features. She plucked it from Naomi's grasp and caressed it with her fingers, sending the blonde a thankful glance.

"I-" she started, clutching the ring tightly to her. Naomi smiled tiredly and blew out the lamp, leaving Emily with the moonlight and street lights sifting in through the window to see. The blonde closed her eyes and felt the bed dip as the redhead clambered in next to her. They were almost touching, Naomi pressed against the wall and Emily presumably about to fall off the edge. The redhead's body was radiating a comforting warmth and Naomi found particularly alluring, especially in her inebriated state.

"Why is that ring so important to you?" Emily shifted slightly, her shoulder now pressing tightly against Naomi's. The blonde held her breath.

"It was Freddie's. I cannot thank you enough for returning it to me. You're different than I was led to believe." Naomi huffed out a laugh in response.

"No, I'm not. You're just an exception," she said. She could hear noise from where Cook, Effy and whoever the other girl was had settled drifting through the floor. Emily cleared her throat.

"Are all the stories true?"

"That depends on which stories you're talkin' about. Would that be my sexual conquests or my sea raids? Because the former tend to be over-exaggerated," the captain replied through a yawn, stretching her body out.

"So you've not had dozens of women?" Naomi paused.

"Not _dozens._ Several. Multiple times. Where did a lady like you hear a story like that?"

"Katie." She snorted. "What?"

"Those are the kind of tales told in taverns and ports like Tortuga, where no respectable ladies should be." It was Emily's turn to scoff.

"Katie's not exactly respectable. Our parents are just too blind to see." Naomi paused, the alcohol taking over the more rational parts of her mind that usually kept her from saying things that could get her into a fight.

"Are _you_ respectable?" she asked, opening her eyes and turning her head to examine Emily's profile. Except she couldn't, because Emily was looking at her, the moonlight glinting in her eyes.

"Yes." She twirled her dead fiancé's ring around her finger. Naomi kissed her. It didn't dawn on her what she had done until it had already happened, and she was about to pull away, expecting a slap and a scream (she may have been a horny twat a lot of the time, but she'd never force anything on anyone, not really). Neither came. Emily was kissing her back. When the redhead did finally pull back, her breathing was ragged. "Maybe not as respectable as I thought," she whispered huskily. Naomi couldn't help but smirk.

"Maybe not," she repeated.

"Is it odd that I enjoyed that?"

"Is it odd that I did as well?" Naomi asked in response. _Woah, there, Naomi. What are you __doing?_

"Isn't kissing women normally something you enjoy?" Emily inquired, her lips scant centimeters away from Naomi's.

"Not as much as I just enjoyed that." _Note to self: never drink around Emily Fitch again. Shut your fucking mouth you gigantic idiot. _

"Would it be horrible of me to ask you to do that again?" The redhead asked, so softly Naomi could barely hear her.

"You're a very unpredictable woman, Miss Fitch," she told her, but closed the small distance between them, because she really fucking wanted to.

It didn't progress; Emily too tired and Naomi was sobering up and on the verge of passing out herself. She didn't want to think about what was happening between the two of them. They were both woken up by Cook banging loudly on the door and shouting at Naomi to get a move on because she needed to help a couple of the boys trade goods for food.

"Shut the hell up, Cook!" she yelled back, disturbing Emily when she sat up and dislodging the redhead's head from where it had been against her shoulder. "You're going to bring the whole bloody tavern down if you keep pounding on the door like that!" Somehow, during the night, the two of them had ended up wound around each other, something that had never happened to Naomi before. It bothered her; she wasn't the cuddly type. More the fuck them and leave them type, as both her lifestyle and personal preference demanded. Emily gave her an apologetic look and a sheepish grin as Naomi untangled their limbs.

"Sorry," she muttered. Naomi shrugged it off.

"Get dressed, we'll finish this quickly. We'll leave tomorrow morning, I think, and take you to Eluethera."

"Hurry up, Cap'n. It's already midday." _Christ. Why can't they do it themselves? It's not that complicated to barter for simple trade goods. On second thought, why can't _Cook_ go? Men. Fucking useless._

Emily avoided her gaze, but stuck close. Tortuga wasn't much different during the day than it was at night; perhaps a little less violent, with the majority of the population passed out or suffering major hangovers. The redhead still flinched every time a gun went off somewhere, or a stumbling drunk got to close to her. Naomi resisted the urge to place an arm around the young woman's shoulders and hold her protectively against her body. On her other side was Cook, his arm slung about Effy's waist while three of her men trailed behind them carrying assorted spices and riches that she had no use for. Bartering was always a tedious process, especially with the merchants in Tortuga. They always wanted more for less and usually required a good deal of intimidation before a deal could actually be made.

Naomi sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, pushing Emily back away from her with one hand and pulling her knife out of her belt with the other, using the hand that had moved Emily to grab the front of the merchant's shirt and slam him against his stand, her blade at his throat.

"Listen here, you repugnant, contemptible, half-witted swine," she snarled through her teeth, the stench of the man's breath making her nose crinkle in disgust. "I'm offering you enough riches to last you a fuckin' lifetime and all I ask in return is enough supplies to hold my men at sea for the next few months. Now agree to the damn trade before I slit your fat little throat. No one here would miss you." The man struggled slightly beneath her knife.

"What yer givin' me isn't payment enuff fer the amount 'o trouble I had to go through t'get thes-" he started, only to be cut off by steel pressing harder against his throat. "Okay! _Okay_! Take it an' go." Naomi sheathed her dagger, pulling away and flicking her hand towards the three crew members standing to the side.

"Load up the Mermaid," she ordered sternly, rubbing her temple with her fingers. "Cook, gather the men. I want to leave by dawn."

"Are you sure 'bout that, Cap'n? Wouldn't it be wise t'give the men a bit more time?" Cook asked, his brow furrowed.

"They'll have time a plenty once we reach Nassau," she replied and turned her gaze on Emily, who looked put off by the scene she caused with the merchant. Naomi grimaced, fingering her sword. Emily looked away first, a slight flush colouring her cheeks. Effy caught the look that passed between them and smirked ever so slightly.

The attack came out of nowhere in the middle of the night when those of the crew who were not sleeping below deck were hardly paying attention to their surroundings. It was the crew of Thomas Tomone, "The Black Cutthroat" of the Caribbean; Naomi could tell by the colours that swung from high above the main mast. Tomone's crew was twice the size of her own, a band of burly, husky men ten times more ruthless than hers. They were outnumbered. They were taken off-guard. It was the situation with the Carpe Diem reversed. Her men, surprised and disgruntled, scrambled to defend their captain and the loot carried within the Mermaid's hull as Tomone's band of renegades swooped onto the deck. The only light provided for Naomi were the sparse torches scattered about the two ships and the light from a half-full moon.

They didn't stand a chance. What felt like mere moments later, Naomi, Emily and Effy were being dragged roughly across the boarding plank onto the deck of Thomas' ship. The pirate captain cut an imposing figure, even in the the darkness. Naomi knew of him; everyone did. He was an escaped slave from Africa, held aboard an English military vessel for seven years before he managed to secure himself passage upon a pirate ship. He was more famous than Naomi herself; a feat considering her sex earned her a high level of notoriety on its own.

"Well, well, well," Thomas chanted, striding to stand in front of the three prisoners, Naomi and Effy on their knees while a number of men restrained Emily off to the side. Cook was nowhere to be seen, but the sounds of fighting still echoed loudly in the air. Naomi bit the inside of her cheek and cast Effy a worried glance. The young brunette's gaze was murderous, but Naomi could see the flecks of concern reflecting back at her. "The great Naomi Campbell," the pirate continued in thickly accented English, white teeth flashing brightly in the darkness.

"What do you want?" Naomi asked sharply.

"Your ship. Your gold," Thomas replied simply, gesturing with his hand. His black eyes flicked towards Emily. "Your woman."

"Leave her out of it. Take what you wish, but let me and my crew go free," Naomi demanded. Thomas laughed heartily.

"You think to make demands of me? You are not in a position to do so, I think." Thomas crossed his arms over his chest. "There are several islands, an hour or so away, which I could dump you on. I'll be making the demands here." Naomi squirmed against the man that held her shoulder and bumped her arm against Effy's. "Your loot is forfeit. You've caught me in a... generous mood, however. I'll leave your ship, and whatever crew still remain alive, but you," he motioned to Effy, "and your friend will be left on the nearest isle. If you are lucky, your crew will find you. If you are not, you will die. The woman will remain with me." Naomi's insides curdled at the smirk that overtook Thomas' face. Emily shouted in protest and struggled against the hands that held her.

"You bastard!" Naomi yelled. Thomas shrugged.

"Chain them below deck until we spot land and place her in my cabin. Disarm and release the others and search the ship for anything of value." Thomas turned away and strode back to the helm, leaning against the wheel and watched his orders being carried out.

Naomi rattled the bars of the cage door her and Effy had been placed in for the upteenth time, then kicked at them in frustration. Effy grabbed her shoulder with forceful fingers and pulled her back.

"We should have been prepared," Naomi snapped, wrenching her shoulder away from Effy's grip. "We should have _known._"

"And how would we've?" Effy said firmly, pushing Naomi down until the blonde was seated on the single bench in the cell.

"That bastard has Emily locked in his room, and fuck knows what he is going to do to her," Naomi told the brunette, punctuating her statement by jabbing a finger upwards.

"Perhaps he'll change his mind, 'n throw the girl overboard with us," Effy said with a smirk. Naomi groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose.

True to his word, a few hours later, Naomi and Effy were standing aboard a thick wooden plank extending over the crystal blue waters of the ocean, a sandy island just visible in the dim light of the rising sun. Effy glanced around nonchalantly at the area around them, a bored look on her face. Naomi envied her calmness. Her eyes flitted about the deck, searching for any sign of Emily. A loud clamour drew her eyes towards Tomone's cabin. The dark-skinned captain emerged mere seconds later, three gashes across his cheek and a struggling Emily behind him.

"She is more trouble than she is worth," he spit, roughly shoving Emily towards Naomi, who caught her in time. "Off with ye all. If you are lucky, whatever is left of your crew shall find you." At once, the entire crew pointed swords and pistols at the three women. Effy rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Hope these aren't shark-infested," she commented off-handedly, stepping off the plank. A splash sounded a second later. Naomi cast a hard look at Thomas and his crew before pushing Emily in and gracefully diving after her. Her head surfaced a few seconds after Effy's. She whipped her hair out of her face and stared at her friend.

"Where's Emily?" Effy shrugged her shoulders, clumsily treading water. Swimming was the only thing that Effy _didn't_ manage to do with a sense of grace. Naomi spun in a circle. "Fuck!" She dove back beneath the surface, cracking her eyes open. They stung slightly, but at least she could see. A flash of pink and red swam before her vision. She kicked her legs as swiftly as she could, wrapping her arms around Emily's waist and struggling towards the surface. Both women took gaping breaths as they broke the surface, Emily wrapping her hands tightly around Naomi's shoulders and clawing at the nape of the blonde's neck. Effy immediately swam over, helping Naomi keep the redhead above water.

"I can't swim," Emily spluttered as an explanation, heaving great gulps of air.

"Now is hardly the time for a lesson," Naomi gasped back. "Kick your legs and hang onto us."

"Get this bloody dress off of me," Emily gasped as the three of them collapsed on the white sand of the beach. "I can't breathe." Naomi rolled onto her stomach, fiddling with the sea-water soaked ties of Emily's dress as the redhead sucked in shaky breaths. Out of nowhere, a knife was being held by her eyes. Naomi accepted it without pause, slicing through layers of fabric and peeling them back from Emily's chest. The young woman huffed out a thanks and rolled onto her side, her fingers curling into the sand.

"How did you hide this knife?" Naomi asked, handing Effy back her weapon.

"I have my ways," the brunette replied, tucking the blade into her belt. "Come. We need to build a fire. Cook needs a signal." _If he's still alive_, Naomi thought morosely.

Effy worked efficiently, compiling a huge pile of driftwood and whatever else she could find on the beach, a raging fire going within minutes. Emily sat off to the side, a few feet back from the tide, her damp and dirty chemise hanging off her thin frame. Naomi dumped grit and sand out of her boots, practically falling next to the redhead as she pulled one her shoes back on. She flopped backwards, arms outstretched.

"How can you be so calm?" Emily asked irritably, a small line between her brows. Naomi shrugged her shoulders and glanced over to where Effy was dancing with herself around the fire, humming a jaunty tune.

"There's not a man on my ship who wouldn't give his life to save mine. And there are only so many islands around here. They will find us."

"You sound awfully confident."

"I _am_ awfully confident."

"Come and dance with me!" Effy called before Emily could respond. "We may never get another chance!" Naomi cast Emily a rakish grin and rose her eyebrows before darting off the sand and sprinting over to Effy. She mock bowed as Effy mock curtsied and spat out a playful, "M'lord."

"M'lady," Naomi responded in kind, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Emily wrapped her arms around her legs and watched Naomi spin Effy around, their feet kicking up sand and the flames from the bonfire casting a red glow across their skin. Minutes passed, and Naomi motioned her over with a wave of her hand, letting go of Effy's arm. Slowly, Emily made her way over to the blonde and accepted the hand that was offered to her.

"I did not know you danced," Emily commented, curling her fingers around Naomi's and closing the space between them. Naomi shrugged, laying her free hand on Emily's waist.

"Not well, I'm afraid," Naomi told her, clumsily following Emily's steps with a grin on her face.

"That's an understatement. You're going to step on my feet."

"Oh, sorry," the blonde muttered, her arm slipping around Emily's torso and pulling her that little bit closer. "You're very beautiful, you know that?" Emily coloured and pressed her forehead against Naomi's shoulder, closing her eyes. The pirate caught Effy's gaze across the small distance between them. Effy raised a brow and tilted her head to the side. Naomi narrowed her eyes in response. Effy turned away.

"What if we are not found?" Emily asked softly, her voice drifting through the air and stirring Naomi from her light slumber. The blonde shifted in the sand and groaned in response.

"You worry too much," she muttered, shoving Effy's body away from hers. The brunette rolled over without complaint; she probably hadn't even woke. "Whatever remains of my crew will regroup and they will find us. We 'ave water and food can be found. It won't be more than a couple days." Emily sighed. Naomi opened her eyes and peered through the darkness and watched the shadows cast by the fire flicker across the redhead's pale skin. Emily met her eyes unflinchingly. Naomi curled her fingers into the sand and slowly touched her lips to the bridge of the young woman's nose. Her heart beat like a drum beneath her sternum. A slight tilt of her head and she could feel Emily's breath, hot against her lips. The redhead's eyes were half-lidded now, her hand touching Naomi's in the sand and trailing across her knuckles. Emily licked her lips. That was all it took. Naomi slowly moved forward, stopping the instant their lips touched. The kiss was simple, tentative, wary. When Emily didn't move away, Naomi rolled on top of her in one smooth motion, fisting up sand in her palms. Emily responded by smoothing the blonde's hair away from her forehead.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, sliding her fingertips down the back of Naomi's shirt and over the nape of her neck.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Yes." Emily paused. "No." She bit her lip and turned her head to the side. "I don't know." Naomi laid a line of kisses against the edge of her jaw and rolled away, biting her lip.

"You are irresistible, Miss Fitch," she sighed.

"Am I," Emily replied, her voice husky. Naomi chewed the inside of her cheek and squeezed her eyes shut.

She was woken up by Effy kicking her gently in the side with her foot and grinning broadly down at her when she finally opened her eyes.

"They found us," she stated happily, tugging harshly on the blonde's hand and all but yanking her to her feet. Naomi rubbed at her face and then squinted blearily at where Effy was pointing, off in the distance to where she could make out the Mermaid anchored and the small boat that was steadily growing closer. A grin broke out over her face. She turned and stooped, shaking Emily's shoulder until the small redhead stirred and groaned out a "go away, Katie," so quiet that Naomi almost missed it.

"Hey," Naomi called, jolting the other woman once more until suddenly she was meeting wide, dark eyes. "I told you they'd find us." The blonde helped Emily to her feet, brushing sand out of her hair.

It wasn't long before Naomi was wading into the water to meet Cook as they pushed the boat to shore. He grabbed her around the waist and spun her once.

"Alright, Naomikins?" he asked with a brilliant grin. Naomi squeezed his shoulders then kicked her feet.

"Excellent. Now put me down and load us up. We have a ship to find and a pirate to murder." Cook's grin turned devilish.

"Let's go then."

"Do you have any idea where Tomone went?" Naomi asked as she strode quickly along the deck of the Mermaid, Cook and Effy on her heels, barking out orders to her crew.

"I know exactly where he went," Cook replied. "Over'eard some o' th' crew before we got let go. You just grab some grub and a bit of drink and I'll take us right to him." They split, Effy staying by Cook's side and Naomi heading off to do as she was instructed, letting the loud rumbling in her stomach guide her to the galley, and incidentally, to Emily as well. The redhead handed her a piece of fruit with a small smile.

"You're going after him, aren't you?" she asked as Naomi bit into her food. The blonde nodded.

"I'm not letting him get away with killing part of my crew and stealing my treasure." Emily's face crumpled slightly, her nose scrunching up and her bottom lip disappearing beneath her teeth. "He'll pay for what he's done. I'll take his treasure for my own and send him to meet his maker. He won't win this time." Emily didn't reply. She took another piece of fruit and slid delicately past Naomi.

She practically bubbled with anticipation. She was ready, confident, her body tingling.

"Look," she stated, pointing over Cook's shoulder towards a ship. "There she is. Tomone must be in port. Perfect. I prefer a tavern brawl over a sea battle with the Mermaid in the state she's in."

"D'you want me to join ye?" Cook asked, his hands steadily steering the ship towards port.

"If you'd like," Naomi answered, setting her hand on the hilt of her sword. "You know once one fight starts a dozen will. The town will prob'ly be a mess by the time we're through."

"You can count me in, Cap'n. Might need an extra pair 'o hands, yeah?"

It didn't take long to find Tomone. After leaving Effy with strict orders to keep the crew in check and make sure that Emily was safe and sound, Naomi and Cook ventured into the town and followed the sound of Tomone's boisterous laugh to a large tavern just off the docks. They entered silently, not hard given the noise streaming from the tavern, and Naomi spotted Thomas in a corner with his feet up on a table and a pint of ale in his hand, talking animatedly to a group of whores.

"Watch my back," she said to Cook, who nodded and headed directly towards the bar. Naomi pushed past a couple people and made her way towards Tomone, her hand moving for the pistol against the small of her back. "Thomas!" she shouted, false cheer in her voice. The pirate's head shot up, his dark eyes narrowing immediately. "Fancy seeing you here, you ol' sea dog."

"Campbell," Tomone greeted. "It is indeed an unexpected surprise."

"It was a bit rude of you to leave me stranded on that island," Naomi continued, wrapping her fingers around the hilt of her gun. "You could have at least left me some food. Or some decent company. Oh, and how are those gashes feeling? You tell these lasses they're from a lady's nails and not some great battle?"

"How, may I ask, did you get off that island?" Thomas asked icily.

"You should learn not to take prisoners, Tomone. And more importantly, not to let said prisoners return to their ship. I have a very intelligent first-mate, and your men really should be careful what they say around their enemies." Her eyes followed Tomone's hand as it twitched slightly towards his side.

"I suppose I will have to finish the job myself then. No mercy, yes? Is that not your philosophy?" Time slowed almost as both pirates reached for their guns. Tomone moved with surprising speed for a man of his size, the small ball of metal erupting from the end with a loud crack and a plume of smoke. Naomi felt it whizz past her ear as she fired her own pistol at the same time, the bullet burying itself in the chair inches away from Tomone's groin. No time to reload, Naomi shoved her pistol back down her trousers and drew her sword as Tomone yanked a cutlass from his belt. Within seconds the tavern was in an uproar, one of the whores Thomas had shoved in his haste to get to his weapon stumbling backwards into a man and causing him to knock over another's drink.

Naomi felt Cook's presence at her back after a moment as her and Tomone crossed blades. He upturned the table with his foot. Naomi jumped back, toppling Cook into the middle of one of the many frays in the process. Someone shot a gun, the bullet exploding through a rafter and sending a stream of splinters and dust on top of Naomi. The blonde peered through the smoke, trying to find where Tomone vanished too and finally saw him rushing up the stairs towards the tavern rooms, shoving a man over the balustrade as he did so.

"Coward!" Naomi shouted at him, squirming her way past the brawlers and taking the rickety stairs two at a time. Thomas whipped around just in time to block Naomi's strike. Placing one hand on the balcony, he slung his body over in a single, graceful motion, landing with a heavy thud on one of the tables below. It broke beneath his weight. Tomone fell into a roll and ripped a loaded gun out of someone's hands. Naomi sheathed her sword and hopped onto the balcony, balancing precariously on its surface. It creaked dangerously under her feet. Taking a deep breath and hoping for the best, Naomi leaped towards the chandelier that lit the building and wrapped her fingers around its edge. It swung forward, her weight propelling it back and forth. Thomas fired his gun, the bullet miraculously sawing right through the rope that attached the chandelier to the ceiling. She flailed her limbs as the chandelier dropped, wrapping her arms tightly around the side of the balcony opposite the side that she had swung off and fumbled for her spare gun.

The blonde gripped one of the support beams and pressed her foot against the floor, twisting her torso about to try and spot where Tomone had run off to. He was wrestling his way towards her. She shot. Thomas' body snapped to the side, bright red blooming from his shoulder and staining his shirt and vest. The cry he must have let out was swallowed up by the roar of the rest of the tavern. Naomi grinned with delight and slid down to hang off the side of the balcony before dropping nimbly to the floor and drawing her blade once more. Thomas rushed her, fear making his movements clumsy. It was no trouble at all for Naomi to block or dodge his frantic attacks and she swiftly disarmed him, twisting his sword arm behind his back sharply and tossing his sword up into her free hand with her foot when it clattered to the floor. The blonde kicked the back of his knees, forcing him to the ground.

"Goodbye, Thomas. Lovely seeing you again," she said tauntingly, thrusting her blade through his chest. She dropped his sword to the ground, and cleaned hers off on a clean bit of his shirt, wiping sweat off of her forehead. Now to collect Cook and get the hell out before things got even worse.

She cornered Naomi as soon as they got back onto the ship, standing in front of her with her arms crossed when the blonde stood at the bow, using the rigging for support.

"You've had her," Effy said bluntly, startling Naomi. The blond whirled around to face her and frowned.

"Wot?"

"The girl. You've had her, yes?" Naomi's frown deepened.

"No."

"Something's happened."

"That's none of your business, Effy."

"You're going soft."

"Shut up." Effy raised a brow and smirked, cocking her head to the side slightly. "I've not gone soft and I'm not going to. Mind your own sodding business." Effy didn't move, but her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Then why haven't you taken her yet?"

"Because I have more respect for my sex than you seem to," Naomi snapped. "Watch your lip or I'll toss you over the side." Effy snorted indignantly at her empty threat, but turned and sauntered off anyway, no doubt to find Cook. Naomi sighed, her headache raging again and clambered onto the side of the ship, swinging her legs over the side and looping her arm around the rigging. Perhaps there was some sense to what Effy said. Either bed the girl or leave her be. A kiss meant nothing, she reasoned with herself. Emily had probably had too much to drink. Hell, _she'd_ had too much to drink. Naomi rubbed her brow and picked at the rope with her fingers. And that kiss at the beach. Well, that had been nothing as well.

She heard Cook's heavy footsteps before she felt his hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"We're all set to continue, Naomi," he said quietly. "Effy been givin' you a hard time?" The blonde shook her head and shrugged his hand off.

"No," she sighed. "She's simply being herself. Observant. Irritating. I think I preferred her when she never talked."

"Unless you do something to piss 'er off, she'll keep 'er mouth shut," Cook said in response.

"I'll make plans to avoid doing that."

"I'd keep her away from the lady if you can help it." She frowned and spun around to look at him. His eyes were serious. "You know how unpredictable she is." Naomi nodded once in understanding and swung back around to touch her feet to the planks of the ship.

"Take us out, then. The sooner we can drop Miss Fitch off the better. Obviously she isn't safe with Effy the way she's being."

"Keep your door locked at night, 'n don't let Miss Fitch out of your sight."

"Control your woman," Naomi told him, then walked away, barking out orders.

Emily was in Naomi's stateroom when the blonde found her, shielded from the sun, staring out the windows. She turned her head when she head Naomi come in and rubbed her hands along her arms.

"Effy does not seem overly fond of me," she stated. Her smile was forced.

"She's mistrusting of everyone, especially people like you." Emily frowned.

"'People like me'?" she questioned, her body turning away from the windows. Naomi shrugged and laid a hand over her wound, rubbing it tenderly.

"Nobles. Rich folk. People who're well off," she explained choppily.

"Why are you taking me to Eluethera instead of simply keeping me here? On your ship?" Naomi considered the question, tracing her fingers across the maps and ship logs scattered across her desk. She pressed her palms flat against the wood and hunched her shoulders. "You're a pirate. A feared one, at that. Why am I different from the other women you've had?"

"You're not," Naomi replied. _She's not,_ she told herself silently. _She's not._

"Then _why?_" Naomi shook her head and pushed away from her desk, removing her jacket. It was warming up swiftly and she'd been on deck for quite some time. She let the question go unanswered and crossed around to the other side of the desk to lower herself into her chair. Emily stepped closer to her and peered down at the maps, ignoring Naomi's lack of response. "Where are we?" she asked instead, touching a map.

"Not there," Naomi answered, amusement lacing her tone now. Emily's fingers rested on a map of Asia, a far cry from the Caribbean. She shuffled the papers around until the correct map of the islands was visible. Emily blushed.

"I've never seen any maps save for one of Europe that used to be kept in my father's study." The blonde glanced up at her, then touched her finger to the island they had just left.

"We just left here, see?" She brushed the pad of her finger across the ink that marked Tortuga's location. Then she trailed it North, to a strip of small islands. "This is Eluethera, here." Towards the West, away from Eluethera and Nassau. "This is the bottom tip of the Americas."

"How do you read these?"

"It's all a matter of scale. These are expertly drawn by the finest cartographers, and stolen by yours truly from the personal records of the governor of Santa Catalina."

"Were you born here?"

"Do I sound like I was born here?" Naomi asked, but there was no nippiness in her tone.

"There are plenty of British colonies," Emily pointed out, making Naomi nod in agreement.

"There are, but no. I was born in London. After my father buggered off we came here."

"How old were you?" Naomi turned away from her maps and raised a brow, pushing them to the side so she could swing her feet up onto the wood.

"You're awfully curious," the blonde remarked, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head back slightly to meet Emily's gaze. "Asking questions like that to most people I know could get you killed."

"You're not most people, though, are you?"

"I was eight, when we came over," Naomi explained, her expression growing pained. Then Cook hollered her name from the deck, thankfully with no trace of panic, and Naomi gestured for Emily to follow her out into the sun.

Often, when the seas were calm and everything was in order, Cook and Naomi would race each other up the rigging, much to the delight of the crew. They were scattered about, a few hanging around on the masts and others tossing dice across the planks, but the majority were gathered around Cook, who was stripping off his shirt and weapons and handing them to Jonah. The doctor looked bored, but resigned to having his arms full of Cook's effects. Cook grinned widely when he caught sight of Naomi.

"How about it, Cap'n?" he shouted, earning a smile from Naomi. "A race?"

"Why the hell not?" Naomi responded. A loud cheer rose up from the men who had gathered. "Jonah, do keep track of the bets, will you?" The blonde scanned the deck, catching sight of Effy at the bow, watching from a distance like she always did. Naomi fought not to glare, and decided to ignore the brunette instead. Effy would calm down eventually. She hoped.

"Miss Fitch, if you would keep track of these for me?" she asked, handing Emily her weapons when the redhead nodded. She held them delicately, an uncomfortable look on her face, as Naomi bent over to pull off her boots.

"Oh, come on, Naomi," Cook teased affectionately, patting his bare chest. "Take it off!" Naomi laughed loudly, even as Emily's face turned bright pink. The blonde felt hers tinge as well, as the glimpse of flesh she'd caught that day flashing through her mind. She cleared her throat softly and reached out to slap Cook across the back of the head.

"I've got more modesty than you seem to think I do, tosser." He grinned good naturedly and removed his own footwear, rolling his shoulders. The blonde pulled him out of the group and the two of them helped a few of the crew fashion make-shift harnesses out of the extra ropes laying about.

As they worked, Jonah relieved Emily of Naomi's things, piling them all off to the side neatly.

"Is this normal for them?" Emily asked him as she watched Cook clamber steadily up the ropes to secure both harnesses before climbing back down one of them. The two blondes helped each other fasten the ropes around their bodies, then stood quietly chatting as the men continued to place their bets.

"Relatively," Jonah said with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. "One of them usually ends up hurting _something_ although thankfully so far it's been nothing but twisting or pulling of limbs."

"Oh, _that's_ all," Emily muttered in reply.

"They're both competitive," he explained. "This is better than them coming to blows over something petty. And a sprained ankle is better than a broken one. The worst that's ever happened is both of them have ended up tangled in the rigging." Emily flinched violently as a pistol went off somewhere and looked over in time to see Cook and Naomi both start up the ropes. They pushed and shoved and kicked and bit at each other's legs and fingers, their toes curling around the rough rigging, which wobbled dangerously with the speed of their climb.

"They don't play fair, do they?" Emily observed, wincing as Cook grabbed Naomi's calf and roughly yanked her down a foot or so before she stopped her fall.

"Pirates don't play fair," Jonah told her with a smug grin. Emily barely heard his response over the shouts of the men, cheering for whomever they'd placed a bet on. Cook was ahead of Naomi now, her attempt to pull him down failing. She knew that she should have been drawn to the way that Cook's muscles tensed as he pulled himself up the ropes, but instead she was concentrating on the flexing and releasing of Naomi's and how the wind blew her shirt flush against her body, outlining curves that were normally hidden from everyone's eyes. She'd valiantly not looked at Naomi's body when taking care of the pirate, but now, with everyone watching the race, she was safe to examine and if she was honest, to want. Naomi stretched her arm up to try and yank Cook down and her sleeve fell up it, revealing the corner of her stitches.

"Can her wound take this?" Emily asked, suddenly concerned. Jonah shrugged and pinched the bridge of his nose once before pushing his spectacles up them.

"Probably. She's a quick healer, and has suffered worse than this; although the fever was unexpected. She seemed to recover from that quickly, as well." There was a loud, triumphant cry, followed by similar ones from about half the crew. Emily looked away from Jonah again and up to see Cook pumping both his fists into the air, standing on the main sail. Naomi was about a metre from the top of the rigging, a grin on her face even though she lost, one arm and one leg looped through the ropes as she dangled comfortably. On deck, the men who'd bet on Naomi grudgingly handed over coins to those who'd bet on Cook, then began to scatter once more. Naomi tugged on the rope around her waist with her hands until the knots came loose and slowly climbed back down to the surface of the ship. Cook joined her a few minutes later, grinning like an idiot with the ropes looped around his shoulder.

"You beat me fair and square, Mr. Cook," Naomi said.

"That I did, Cap'n. Now, do we get to willy-waggle, or no?" Cook asked with a suggestive raise of an eyebrow and a cocky smile.

"Don't you have Effy for that?" Naomi replied, her eyes turning away from her first-mate to watch the lithe brunette slink her way through the crowd to stand by Cook's side, trailing a finger down the light sheen of sweat that coated his neck and chest. She smirked. Naomi smiled at him and raised her brows.

"Toosh," he said absently, letting Effy whisk him away. Naomi rolled her eyes.

"Touché," she corrected pointlessly, a breeze lifting her hair from her face and whipping her shirt around her thighs. Jonah beckoned her over impatiently, a line between his eyebrows. The blonde sighed and sauntered over, holding her arm out so Jonah could yank up the sleeve of her shirt and scrutinize her wound. "See? Fine. That was good for it, I think. Stretched it in quite a pleasing manner. Nothing quite like a full body exercise, now is there?" Jonah grunted and released her. She smiled at him.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a tension developed between Naomi and Emily. The redhead wouldn't meet her eyes, and spent most of her time either at the bow of the ship, or locked in Naomi's stateroom if Effy was prowling the deck. Whenever their eyes did meet, Emily's were closed off, but sometimes Naomi thought she caught a glimpse of severely muted desire glinting in them. Cook took a liking to the redhead, and she to him, and he pointed out different parts of the Mermaid and let her steer for a few minutes until her arms began to tremble with the effort of holding the ship on course. It frustrated Naomi (and further infuriated Effy), although she didn't know why. It mattered not if the lady ignored her.

It put the blonde in a mood for a few days, and she snapped irritably at her crew whenever they messed something up or slacked off for too long. Eventually it faded into a slight annoyance and everyone relaxed.

A week later, everything changed. Naomi couldn't tell if it was for better or worse, but something in her gut told her that this woman was going to get her killed.

The men had decided that a drinking game had been in order, and the blonde's arm had hurt from Jonah removing the stitches, so she ordered Cook to keep an eye on things and played cards with some of the lads. Something she was notoriously bad at, almost as notorious as her reputation. She lost. A lot. And ended up going through most of her personal store of rum in the process.

She hadn't meant for it to happen, honestly. Effy's words that she'd gone soft kept ringing in her ears and part of her wanted to prove that wasn't so to protect her precious reputation and part of her wanted to see if she felt the same and part of her wanted to see if Emily would react the same way. Her previous advice to herself when they'd been in Tortuga also went unheeded. It didn't matter that Naomi's bed was large enough for three people to fit, and that her and Emily were on opposite sides of it, not touching at all. Her mind had stopped thinking rationally about halfway through her game of cards. She bit her lip and stayed quiet, using Emily's breathing to determine if the redhead was awake or not. She was.

"Why were you avoiding me?" she asked, a slur lacing her tone. Her limbs felt heavy, her mind spinning a bit. The last sober part of it screamed that she asked because she was curious, not because she cared. Because she didn't care.

"I wasn't," Emily replied after a long pause. "I just wanted some time to myself. I miss my family." Naomi bit down on her lip and reached an arm out until her hand brushed against Emily's body. The heat radiated throughout her entire being. Emily's muscles tightened but she didn't pull away.

"You were watchin' me durin' the race. I felt yer eyes. D'you always do that? Watch women."

"Sometimes." Naomi almost asked if it was okay to kiss her, but then remembered that she was a pirate, and pirates didn't ask for anything. They took. So Naomi rolled over (surprisingly stable) and hovered over Emily. She could barely make out the redhead's face in the darkness, but the hitch in the young woman's breathing told her what she wanted to know.

Emily wanted something, she could tell.

It was obvious in the way her body shifted almost imperceptibly, their uneven breaths the only sound other than the creaks of the Mermaid. And Naomi wanted, too. Wanted to satisfy the burning in her chest and the tingling in her fingertips that had little to do with the drink she'd consumed and everything with images of what the rest of Emily's body looked like. She wanted to know Emily's body as well as she knew the sea, and she wasn't going to let anything stop her.

Not that that proved to be an issue, if the way Emily surged up and sighed once their lips touched was a reliable indicator.

It was different. She didn't know how, but _no one_ had ever even remotely made her feel the same thrill she had during a raid on a town, or when a sea battle turned her way coupled with the chord of fear similar to the one that had struck her when she'd been caught by guards and had come dangerously close to losing her head before Cook and Effy had saved her. Emily, though... It was like all of that doubled. Tripled even.

Naomi knew she was a good lover. She was good at everything she did, whether it came naturally to her or was the product of loads of experience. Emily seemed to change all that, making the blonde's hands tremble as they did in the cold, although she was far from it. Her fingers clutched at Emily's chemise, pushing it up around her thighs. The redhead didn't protest, but slipped her fingers through Naomi's tangled hair. Emily pushed her hips up into Naomi's and either she was a natural at this or she'd done it before, and Naomi sincerely hoped it was the former.

"Naomi," Emily breathed across her cheek as the blonde moved to her neck. At the sound of her name, Naomi's head shot up, closing her eyes as her vision spun. "I-I'm sorry, I..." Naomi shook her head.

"No, it's alright." A pause. "That's the first time you've ever said m'name," the blonde murmured.

"There's a first time for everything," Emily husked, shifting into a beam of moonlight. Her eyes were black.

"Say it again," Naomi demanded. Emily had the decency to blush darkly as she muttered,

"Naomi, if you don't kiss me again, I think I shall die." Naomi complied, holding herself above Emily on her knees so she could touch her fingers to the woman's pale skin. Emily's touches weren't as sure as hers were, but her hands were surprisingly steady as she slipped them beneath Naomi's shirt and ran them along her back, the garment catching on her wrists and following until Naomi simply yanked it off her head in one fluent motion and tossed it aside. Emily wasted no time in caressing the back's of Naomi's shoulders. She turned her head to the side when her fingers brushed over slightly raised flesh. Naomi stilled her lips against the redhead's neck.

"I'm a pirate; I'm treated no differently from simply because I'm a woman," she explained. "It's not as bad as it seems, really. I heal well."

Within a flash, Naomi was on her back with Emily straddling her hips with her head cocked to the side and her crimson hair tumbling over one shoulder as she ran her hands up over Naomi's ribs. The blonde pushed Emily's chemise further up her thighs until it bunched around her hips, then higher still. Alcohol fuelled her actions as well as her desire to see the young woman bare. She didn't know what made Emily so compliant, and for the moment, she didn't care.

It was only then that Emily's fingers began to shake, as Naomi removed her only piece of clothing, and greedily flitted her eyes across the flesh revealed to her, almost shining in the moonlight. Her breath left her in a rush.

"By God," she whispered, tentatively glancing her hands across Emily's sides, then up her stomach and across her breasts. Emily's head fell back, her lips parting, exposing a pale throat that Naomi immediately shot up to press hot kisses against. There was just this... passion, racing through her entire being. She'd never felt this sort of thing before. Lust, certainly. It was a common feeling for her. If she was honest, she'd lusted for Emily from the beginning, since that first glance through her spyglass.

When Emily looked at her again, her hair was already sticking to her forehead. Naomi pushed up on her elbows and kiss the redhead's neck. Her shoulder. The edge of her collarbone. Emily grabbed the sides of her face and crushed their lips together again. The redhead's mouth felt like silk against hers. If Emily was nervous, she didn't say, her hands swiftly moving from Naomi's jaw to the ragged trousers the blonde had taken to sleeping in since they'd picked Emily up. Naomi lifted her hips slightly to assist the redhead and flipped them over as soon as they were off. Emily's chest heaved in time with her rapid breathing, body arching up towards Naomi's, like she couldn't keep it from doing so. Naomi could feel the pull too. Stronger than gravity.

She mapped out the young woman's body with her lips and teeth, strong fingers traversing over the hills and valleys of her form, a desire she'd never had before in her life.

Naomi slipped a hand down, between their bodies, to press against Emily's centre. She knew what she was doing, even if the other woman did not. Emily gasped and jerked against her, eyes glinting. The blonde made a conscious effort to be gentle, her arms shaking with it; it wasn't something she normally had to do. She wrapped her lips around a peaked nipple and stroked a finger through the redhead's folds, earning a husky groan deep from Emily's chest that vibrated through both their bodies. Naomi answered with one of her own when she felt how ready Emily was.

"It's okay," Emily whispered when Naomi hesitated. That was all the blonde needed to hear. She pressed a finger against Emily's clit. The redhead dug her fingers into Naomi's biceps, feeling the muscles tense under her grasp. Naomi kissed her sternum, moving back to her lips when Emily tugged on her hair. She kissed the redhead hard, simultaneously sliding a finger into her. She swallowed Emily's moans with her lips. "_Naomi_," Emily husked when the blonde dropped her head and nestled her face in the crook of the young woman's neck. Naomi would've given up her entire cache of riches to hear Emily say that again.

"Emily," Naomi whispered back when Emily's hips ground into hers. The redhead's breath caught once, then again, and then her hands were everywhere, gripping and pulling and leaving little half moons in Naomi's skin. Naomi kept her hand moving and pushed her body as close to Emily's as she could. When Emily's jerking finally calmed, the blonde pulled her fingers away, tempted to clean them, to know how the goddess beneath her tasted, but she resisted the urge, wiping them off on her duvet instead and giving Emily a lingering kiss.

Emily touched her jaw gently, then her cheek, then traced the line of her brow, smoothing her hair back from her face. Naomi fought the wave of tiredness that overcame her and knew that she was sobering up quickly. Still, she didn't move, and didn't push Emily's hand away. A serpent of fear uncoiled in her stomach and readied its fangs, but still she did not budge.

"You're so much different than I thought," Emily admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Naomi bit her lip, thankful that her face was hidden, and remained silent. The blonde pressed the side of her head to Emily's chest and listened to the redhead's heartbeat, her eyes sliding shut.

"I guess I'm just full of surprises," she finally responded, her lips barely moving. Emily trailed her fingers along the edge of Naomi's shoulder, then down to her shoulder blade. _Move, Naomi_, the blonde's mind demanded. _Move. You're too close. This is too much. Move._ But her body didn't obey.

"Don't you...?" Emily began, clearly too embarrassed to finish her question, but obviously aware that things like that were a two way street. Naomi paused, considering everything, and then nodded against Emily's breasts. She pushed herself up, gazing down at Emily through half lidded eyes. Emily touched her chest hesitantly and Naomi's eyes shut the rest of the way, a shuddery moan escaping her lips. The blonde took Emily's hand and guided her fingers to where she needed them most. Emily caught on swiftly, quicker than some of the other girls she'd been with. She _was_ just naturally good at it. It was mere minutes until Naomi was shuddering above the young woman, undulating against her hand.

They fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed, but awoke tangled in one another. Naomi disentangled herself as carefully as she could manage and dressed swiftly. The blonde poured a glass of wine and drained it in one go, erasing the sandy feeling from her mouth and throat. She slumped in her chair and stared at Emily's still sleeping form. She caught sight of a dark mark on her neck in her looking glass, and wondered when Emily had left that there. Naomi sighed, long and low, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Every night it was the same. Naomi seemed to have awakened a beast within the young woman, which the blonde could never have suspected, despite how bravely Emily had stood up to her at the beginning. They'd make love and fall asleep without touching. Usually, Naomi would wake up with Emily's body curled into her. She'd always pull away, her chest tightening painfully as she fought off the urge to run as far as she could. The only attachments Naomi formed were to Cook, Effy and Jonah. She wasn't allowed to care any more than that. Caring could get her killed.

Every night she touched Emily, an action that was even more terrifying sober. Every morning she woke up with Emily's face against her neck, sometimes kissing the blonde's skin until she swam back into consciousness. Effy must have picked up on some subtle change that no one else could ever notice, because whenever Naomi saw her, the brunette would smirk and throw her a suggestive wink. At least she didn't have to worry about Effy ripping Emily limb from limb if the mood took her, now.

Naomi was the one who spotted land first, enjoying a quiet moment to herself on top a mast. She clambered down a free hanging rope and swung onto rigging when she reached the end of it and climbing the rest of the way. She gathered the men who were on the deck around her and laid a hand on the hilt of her sword.

"Boys!" she called, waiting until she had their full attention before she spoke again. "We're taking a small detour to drop off our lady friend. This is _not_ a raid," she told them sternly. "The Mermaid will be hidden from the sight of the guards in a nearby cove until I return. Miss Fitch and I'll be takin' a skiff into the town. If _any_ man follows and I find out, he will be flogged. Cook and Effy will be in charge until I return. Is that understood?" Murmurs of agreement rose up from the crew and Naomi waved her hand, allowing them to disperse. Cook pulled her gently to the side.

"You sure about this, Naomi?" he asked. "There're prob'ly people there who will recognize you." Naomi shrugged.

"I'll keep my head down. I just want to make sure that Em-Miss Fitch makes it safely to her family," she told him.

"This isn't like you."

"You'd do the same for Effy," Naomi countered, repeating what she'd told him earlier. "Just because I'm a notorious pirate doesn't mean that I can't show mercy. Especially to a woman."

"Be careful. Eff and I might not be able to come to the rescue if anythin' happens."

"I'll do my best," she assured him with a smile before wandering away to find Emily.

The redhead was quiet as Naomi slowly rowed them towards the docks, her only weapon a small knife hidden in her boot. The blonde had pulled her hair into a messy ponytail and tucked in her shirt, wanting to look as nothing more than the escort she was supposed to be. Emily was in the same dress she'd been wearing when Naomi attacked the Carpe Diem, still a bit stained with blood. The blonde eyed it.

"My parents will not notice, if that's what concerns you," Emily said softly. Naomi didn't respond and turned her eyes back to her lap. "Will you be safe?" The redhead continued after a few moments had passed.

"As safe as I am in any other port that does not cater to my kind," Naomi replied. "I'll be careful. Don't worry about me." The redhead was quiet for a while.

"Thank you," she said eventually.

"For what?" Naomi asked, raising a brow.

"Keeping me safe. Not killing me or handing me to your men." The blonde grunted softly in response, hating how her chest constricted painfully and wondering why this woman, of all the girls she'd had, made her feel so much all at once.

Emily flounced a few paces before Naomi while the blonde kept her eyes peeled for any sign of trouble. So far, none had presented itself. They'd tied the skiff to a small, unused dock, hidden by larger merchant ships. The closer the two of them drew to the larger houses in the centre of town, then more at ease Emily became. Naomi, however, fidgeted nervously, the increased security surrounding the richer population of Eluethera putting her on edge.

"We're almost there," Emily informed her as they rounded a corner into a rather nice street with cobbled roads and horse-drawn carriages. Naomi clenched her fist at her side to keep herself from reaching out to wrap a protective arm around the young woman's waist. "Just around this bend, I think."

"How do you know where you're going?"

"I'm good at following directions," Emily smirked, a glint in her eye that made Naomi remember just how good at doing that she really was. "I was told the street name and house number in one of the letters I was sent."

"Good. The sooner the better. I have a bad feeling in my gut."

Her instincts proved right. She didn't see the "wanted" poster until it was too late, just as she was about to say her goodbyes to Emily outside the front gate of the house. The guards standing nearby put two and two together quicker than she could have thought, and suddenly two strong pairs of hands wrapped tightly around her upper arms. Naomi cried out as her wound from the sea battle was irritated, her boots scraping uselessly against the stones beneath them.

"No!" she heard Emily cry out over her own grunts of exertion. "Release her, now! I _order_ you!" Naomi managed to twist one arm free and elbowed one of her attackers in the gut. She was rewarded with a fist slamming into her face, knocking her off her feet. Naomi howled in pain, reflexively reaching for her dagger. As soon as her fingers closed around the weapon and pulled it free, a foot stomped down on her hand and the steel clattered from her grasp.

"Fetch me a pair of irons!" one of the men shouted, forcing Naomi's arms behind her back and her face to the ground. Emily was still yelling for the guards to let her go, a crowd gathering around the small group. The ruckus drew Emily's family to the door. Naomi managed to catch a glimpse of the mirror image of Emily (although paler and rather frail looking) standing in the doorway with a concerned look on her face. Emily shoved at the shoulder of the man pinning Naomi to the stones, but he pushed her off easily.

"This woman is wanted for crimes against the king," he snapped, one hand on the space between Naomi's shoulder blades and the other pressing her hands painfully against the small of her back. The blonde wriggled uselessly beneath him, growling.

"This woman saved my life!" Emily argued, shoving at him again.

"She'll be put on trial and hanged," the man said gruffly, clasping heavy chains around Naomi's wrists. A dark haired woman appeared by Emily's side and placed a hard hand on the redhead's shoulder.

"Emily, come away. Now. Leave the guards be. The less criminal scum there is in this world the better," she snarled, casting Naomi a dirty look. The blonde spit blood out onto the pavement as she was hauled roughly to her feet. She struggled against her captors as Emily pushed her mother's hand off her shoulder and rushed to her side, cupping her face.

"I will _not_ let them harm you," she promised. The soldier pushed her away again. "I'd be dead if it weren't for you."

"_Emily!_" the dark-haired woman gasped.

"Let's go, you worthless piece of trash," the man holding Naomi's shoulder ordered viciously, giving the blonde a rough shove.

"Get your hands off of me, you son of a bitch," Naomi snapped, earning herself the back of a gauntleted hand across her face. She felt her cheek split. The last thing she saw as she was dragged flailing down the street was Emily's horrified face.

"Emily," Jenna sighed in frustration, "Please, forget all of this nonsense. Don't spoil your homecoming. Katie has missed you." Emily set her jaw and crossed her arms over her chest, fixing her mother with a furious glare before turning on her heel and stalking off to find her twin. She'd been arguing for what felt like hours with Jenna, trying to make her understand that somewhere beneath Naomi's tough, uncaring exterior, there was a loving soul. It was like banging her fists against a wall.

Katie was in what would be their bedroom now, sitting on the edge of the bed sewing something that Emily couldn't decipher yet.

"We thought something horrible had happened to you," Katie said, her voice sharp. "Did you have fun gallivanting with pirates?"

"It wasn't like that, Katie," Emily argued, shutting the door and slumping against it.

"What was it like, then, Ems. Hmm?" Katie asked, abruptly setting her sewing to the side and getting to her feet. "Enlighten me." She pursed her lips and glared at Emily.

"I didn't have a choice!" Emily shouted. "What would you have had me do? Fight? Run? I would have _died_. She kept me safe, and now she's being thrown into a jail cell because she made sure I got here in one piece."

"She's being thrown into a jail cell because she's a pirate, Emily," Katie stated flatly.

"You just don't get it, do you? She's going to be hung; you know that. Because-" _Because of me_, Emily's mind finished for her.

"Of course she's going to be hung, she-" Katie began before pressing her hand to her chest and coughing violently, the force of it making her bend over and support herself on the bed frame. Emily frowned, her fight evaporating.

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have worked you up," she said softly, crossing to Katie's side and wrapping her arms around her twin. After a few agonizing seconds, Katie's form stilled and her breathing returned to normal.

"I'm glad you're home, Emsy," Katie lisped. Emily just held her tighter.

Naomi tugged hard at the shackles chaining her wrists to the stone wall, growling in frustration. Her sleeve was stained with blood from her nose and cheek, her right hand a pretty shade of purple and she was pretty sure she had a black eye growing. She'd thought for a few moments that her fingers had been broken when the soldier stomped on them, but, while they were stiff and sore, she could flex them without any trouble.

"Be quiet in there," the guard stationed outside her cell ordered sharply, banging on the door with the hilt of his spear. Naomi jangled her bindings once more to spite him and glared at what she could see of his helmet through the bars at the top of the door. She sighed loudly, and dropped her head into her hands, then tenderly felt her nose with her hand. Even if her fingers weren't broken, it certainly seemed to be. The blonde cursed and shoved a hand through her mud-caked lockes. _Think, Naomi, think. There's a way out of every situation._

The cell door opened and a rather portly man carrying a bowl of bread and cheese entered. He grinned cruelly at Naomi and held the bowl by her face. Naomi leaned in towards it, her stomach complaining loudly. The guard laughed and slowly drew the bowl further away from Naomi until it was just out of her reach before setting it on the floor and leaving with a hearty chuckle. The blonde tried to reach the bowl with her feet and draw it to her, but she couldn't moved more than a few inches with the chains around her ankles.

"Fuck," she swore, relaxing against the wall behind her and tilting her head back with a long sigh. "Fuck."

They wasted no time in putting her on trial, not that Naomi was particularly surprised by that. Two days passed in her dingy little cell as the news of her capture spread like a wildfire around the port. She could only hope that Cook and Effy had figured out what had happened and were devising a plan to get her out. The jingle of heavy keys forced her head up from where it was resting in her hands, expecting the guards to enter and lead her out, but was instead greeted by the one person she'd never thought she'd see again.

"Emily," she gasped in shock, her eyes widening. "What the hell are you doing here?" The redhead indicated for the guard to close the door and dropped to her knees before Naomi, heedless of the filth scattered about the floor staining her skirts.

"Cook and Effy know what's happened. They'll get you out, I promise," Emily said in a rushed whisper, fumbling with something. Naomi watched curiously, her brows furrowed.

"How did you...?" Naomi asked in disbelief, accepting what Emily pressed into her hands. The blonde's frown deepened as a glint of steel caught her eye.

"Hide this well. Free yourself when you get the chance. Cook and Effy will help you fight your way out." Emily glanced quickly towards the door, then took Naomi's face in her hands and kissed her desperately. "If I never see you again..."

"I can't stand it," Naomi whispered back, her chains dangling softly as she leaned forward to hold Emily's neck gently in her hands, pressing her thumbs to the underside of the redhead's jaw and feeling her pulse flutter rapidly. "I can't."

"It's okay," Emily said against her lips, then pulled away quickly. "I must go. I-I lo-" Emily bit her lip and smoothed Naomi's matted hair back from her face. "_Be safe_," she hissed, quickly standing and straightening her skirts just as the door opened. With a last lingering look, Emily allowed the guard to escort her out of the cell. Naomi's head reeled. The sound of marching footsteps drew her out of her thoughts. She shifted her body and slipped the knife into the back of her trousers, hiding it with her shirt.

"Let's go," said a soldier gruffly as he pulled open the door, another entering her cell to unlock the chains that bound her to the wall and tying her hands behind her back with a thick length of rope, knotted tightly. A man each situated himself on either side of her body, grabbing her elbows and half pulling, half leading her through the prison and out into the courtyard. She squinted in the sunlight, only struggling slightly against her captors as they pushed her to stand in front of the steps leading up to the gallows. One of them prodded her in the back with the butt of his halberd when she didn't move.

Reluctantly, Naomi trudged up the stairs, her hands fidgeting towards the weapon hidden against the small of her back. Her eyes scanned the crowd gathered, looking for any familiar faces. She set her lips in a hard line as the noose was slipped over her neck and flinched as it was tightened roughly. The blonde caught Emily's eye from across the courtyard, the redhead clutching her sister's hand tightly. Naomi looked away, a glint from the top of the ramparts catching her gaze once she did. As the drums rolled to a stop, Naomi fought to keep the relief from showing on her face. She recognized the signal; it was Effy. _Thank God. _Wait, it said. _Wait? I don't have time to wait._

"Naomi Campbell,"

"Captain. _Captain _Naomi Campbell," she muttered to herself.

"you have been charged with crimes of piracy against the King and country consisting of, but not limited to: murder, pillaging, plundering, commandeering of ships..." Naomi rolled her eyes as the herald droned on, listing her crimes (or as she liked to think of them, achievements) and kept her eyes trained on the signalling mirror. _Come on, Effy. Give the sign. I'm running out of time here._ "You have been sentenced to hang by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul." The drums started up again. The executioner's hand tightened on the lever that would drop the ground from under her feet. Naomi felt a sweat break out along her brow. One flash, two quick ones, and another flash. Go!

Naomi slipped her hand beneath her shirt and pulled her knife out, flipping it in her palm and sawing it as swiftly as she could through the ropes that bound her hands. She saw her men's heads pop up over the ramparts and descend down ropes on the other side. _Just a few more seconds..._ The blade sliced through the ropes with a gentle jerk. She flashed the steel in the sunlight and received one in return. She moved quickly, yanking the noose over her head just as the lever was pulled and the hatch beneath her feet opened.

Suddenly, the whole courtyard erupted into motion, Naomi's men exploding from the back in a flurry of guns and steel, battling their way to their captain. Naomi twirled to the side to avoid a sword that was shoved down the slats in the floor of the gallows and stabbed up with her blade. Blood coated her blade coupled with a howl of pain as the steel penetrated the bottom of a booted foot. She yanked her arm back down and started towards her crew. The civilians had begun to flee from the courtyard, while guards and soldiers streamed in. Naomi avoided as many confrontations as she could, her body weak from lack of nourishment.

She shoved through a crowd of particularly scared nobles like a wolf carving through a herd of sheep, stumbling and almost tripping over a soldier's pike. Naomi spun her body around and easily slid her dagger into a gap in his armour, just under his shoulder. A guard behind her shoved the butt of his spear into her back, shoving her to the ground. Naomi flipped her body and rolled to the side as the sharp point descended towards her. It buried deep into the ground, giving Naomi the time she needed to kick him in the groin with her heel and scramble away. Soon, she was surrounded by members of her crew on all sides instead of soldiers. They began to retreat towards the wall as guards started to swarm the ramparts. Naomi clenched her dagger between her teeth, wincing at the mixed taste of blood and steel on her tongue and grasped one of the ropes, hauling herself up it. Retreat was the only option. They were severely outnumbered and Naomi had no desire to take the port, only to escape with her life and as many of her crew as she could get out of there alive. Her muscles burned with the effort of keeping her ascent swift.

Halfway up, she noticed a soldier raising his sword to strike at Effy's turned back. Naomi tangled the rope once around her left wrist and pulled the dagger from her teeth, lobbing it at the man. Effy's head whipped to the side as she watched the blade pass inches from her cheek, her hair and eyes wild. It struck his throat, and gurgling he collapsed, clutching at the blood spurting from his neck. The rope she clung to and the ones around her began to shake as her men followed her up the wall.

"Let's go!" she yelled to Cook, Effy and the few men that were around them. "We need to go,_ now_. Back to the Mermaid!" It was easier to fight up top where the air was clearer and there were less soldiers, most of them still in the courtyard clambering to follow. Her men were nimble and fast, easily dispatching of the few guards that had reached their party, mostly by just shoving them over the side into the courtyard or the jagged rocks that rose above the sea. Her shirt and hair were drenched with sweat when they finally managed to break through to the secret passageway that Cook must have used to get everyone inside without alerting the town guards. It wound about the cliffs that the prison was placed on; a thin, dangerously unsteady path. There was a small cove at the bottom, and there rested her ship.

Naomi finally let herself breathe a sigh of relief as she swung down another set of ropes onto the Mermaid's decks. No soldiers had followed that hadn't easily been taken out by a swift shove to the shoulder that sent them toppling down the cliff. She all but collapsed against the side of the ship.

"Get us out of here, before they find out where we are," she ordered, rubbing her eyes with her fingers. "I need a fucking _barrel _of rum." The ship creaked into life, sails filling and sending the vessel lurching forward. The town guard had finally gotten their act together enough to send archers up to the ramparts. Naomi didn't notice until an arrow thudded into the wood between her legs. "Take cover until we're out of range!" she yelled, scrambling behind a mast. Her men obeyed immediately, most of them all but falling below deck. Cook crouched low, peering over the wheel so he could see what direction the ship was going. Naomi held her breath until the arrows began splashing loudly into the water instead of the ship. She rapped loudly three times on the deck then straightened up and passed a hand over her brow. Cook began to laugh.

"Well, what an adventure that turned out to be, eh?" he called over a sudden pick up in the wind, pushing the Mermaid further from the prison.

"Where is all the fucking rum?" Naomi asked in reply.

"What's not down in the galley for the men's in yer cabin, I think. Last I check tha's where all the good stuff's at." Naomi wormed through the men streaming out from where they'd hidden during the aerial assault. She palmed open her door and shut it securely behind her, leaning against it and closing her eyes. The blonde tipped her head back against the wood and inhaled deeply through her nose. As the adrenaline drained from her body, all her aches and pains came back. A sharp pain began to build up behind her eyes. Naomi rubbed at her temple, then thudded heavily down the stairs, heading towards the cabinet where the rum must have been, not noticing until she'd already poured herself a goblet full that there was someone sat at her chair. She frowned and spun around, expecting to see Effy.

Her eyes widened in surprise as her gaze settled on a familiar redhead. The cup fell from her fingers, spilling rum over a priceless Oriental rug. Emily smiled and straightened her skirts. Naomi blinked, then rubbed her eyes, sure that she was just seeing things. There was no way that Emily could possibly have gotten on the ship without her knowing.

"How the hell did you get in here?" Emily blinked once and frowned slightly.

"The same way I got down here to tell Cook what had happened," the redhead answered. "Are you not happy to see me?"

"I-ye-but how?" Naomi stuttered.

"I found the passageway that you left through. The guards were too consumed with trying to catch you to bother with townsfolk." Emily rose to her feet and crossed the room to stand before Naomi, slowly raising a hand to cup her face delicately. "God, look at what they've done to you. You've not seen the doctor, have you?"

"What about your family?" Emily shrugged and smiled, but it was pained.

"They made it clear that I am not welcome there, although Katie seemed the most reluctant to allow me to leave. Frankly, I'm surprised they didn't throw me out on the street. I tried to get her to come with me, but... she's too ill. I promised I'd write her."

"What makes you so sure I'll allow you to stay?" Naomi asked cautiously, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears that it was almost deafening. "You could be lying about your family."

"Have I lied to you yet?"

"No." Emily's smile loosened.

"We both know that I'm not, and that you will," Emily said softly, her free hand reaching up to stroke Naomi's other cheek.

"Why are you here?" Naomi asked, fear making her voice tremble. This was new. This was foreign. She was at its mercy.

"I think you know why." Naomi shook her head, even though her mind was screaming the answer at her. "I love you." Naomi wondered absently as her mind began to spin how three simple words used in any other context could mean nothing, but in that order, uttered by that voice, from those lips flipped her entire world upside-down.

Naomi kissed her softly, then increased the pressure as Emily stepped closer to her. Emily touched her fingers to the edges of the cut on Naomi's cheek, then moved both her hands to hold her jaw. Naomi walked them back towards the bed, fumbling for the latch to open the slatted door. She fell back once she managed to, her support suddenly vanishing. Emily landed smoothly on top of her, but their foreheads knocked. Naomi flinched. Emily kissed her temple and then her nose, still crusted a bit with dried blood.

"Ow," Naomi hissed, grimacing. Emily kissed her nose again tenderly. "It's sore still. Stop that." Emily smiled apologetically and stroked Naomi's neck with her fingertips.

"Perhaps we should wait," she suggested teasingly. "You should get cleaned up." Naomi frowned and gripped the bottoms of Emily's thighs, dragging her hands up towards her hips and pulling the redhead's skirts up in the process. "Nevermind, then, but you _have_ spent the past two days in a filthy cell." Naomi sighed and pushed Emily off of her.

"Okay, okay."

Impatiently she waited for Jonah to check her over and clean her wounds. She fidgeted in her seat, wincing as the doctor made sure her nose wasn't broken and that the gash on her cheek wouldn't need stitches. She sighed as he looked at her arm for the hundredth time.

"Are you done?" she asked irritably. Jonah glared at her from over his glasses and dropped her shirt. Naomi yanked her sleeve back up her shoulder sent him a pointed glance before turning her eyes to the stairs out of her stateroom.

"If the pain gets any worse come find me," he instructed her then made an expedient exit. Naomi sighed in relief and tilted her head back towards the roof. She heard Emily wander over and felt the young woman's hair brush against her shoulder seconds before soft lips touched the side of her throat. Naomi hummed out a moan. Just those two days without the redhead's touched had seemed like a lifetime and, although she'd never admit it to anyone, the thought of never seeing Emily again had torn her soul apart.

"Better?" Naomi asked. Emily nodded and her voice was husky when she replied,

"Much. Now take me to your bed." Naomi smiled and raised a hand to tangle her fingers in Emily's hair. The young woman kissed the raw skin at her wrist, chafed from chain and rope.

Much later, when they lay spent in Naomi's bed, Emily curled into the blonde's side and traced patterns across the sweat-soaked skin of her stomach. Naomi's eyes were shut, her breathing even and soft. The redheads fingers were comforting, lulling her into an almost trance.

"I love you, too," Naomi whispered, covering Emily's hand with her own. It was a strange feeling, love. The closest she'd ever come to it was for Cook and that was nothing compared to the feelings that were bundled up in her chest, threatening to burst out and shake her very foundations. They were like a gigantic canon ball, enough force to sink a fleet of ships all on it's own contained in its mass.

"I know," she heard Emily's husky voice, seconds before she drifted into a peaceful sleep.


End file.
